The Christmas Eve Kiss: A Snow Valley Christmas Romance

by Taylor Hart

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “We need to get your mind off this.” A slow grin lifted the corner of his mouth. He snapped. “I have an idea.” He nodded to the snowsuits on the wall. “Suit up, we’re going snowmobiling.”

  Chapter 17

  The air wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Not frigid and so cold your snot would freeze with one breath. So that was a positive thing. I tried to keep my footing in the deeper snow.

  Kevin grinned next to me, the facial hair and green eyes almost too much. “You look good in winter clothes, Mol.”

  The same butterflies from earlier, thumped against my stomach in crack-like fashion. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

  Kevin put out his hand and helped me onto the snowmobile. He’d packed a bag full of stuff and bungeed corded it to the back. “I promise it’ll be warm when we get there.”

  I let him help me. “Where are we going?”

  He eased onto the seat in front of me. “A surprise.”

  I grinned.

  He cleared his throat. “I don’t know if you’ve ridden for a while, but remember that the best thing you can do is hold on very tight to the extremely hot guy in front of you.”

  “Extremely hot, huh?”

  He shifted in the seat. “Oh, Kevin, yes, you’re the hottest guy I’ve seen in two and a half years, when did that happen?’ ‘Oh, you’re too kind, Mol, you’re just saying that.’”

  This time I laughed, a real laugh, at his made up conversation. It almost made me forget about my parents.

  He started the engine and laughed, too. “Now, that’s the way I expect my pretend conversations to be received.”

  We took off, Kevin eased into the ride, accelerating as he got further from the cabin. I tucked my head against his back and watched the snow-covered ranch land pass us by. The sunlight faded and a thousand memories raced through me. Of him and me snowmobiling in years past. At first, as friends, taking two snowmobiles and exploring this mountain. Then, later as teenagers, tentatively more than friends on the same snowmobile.

  At some point, when I’d turned seventeen, I’d remembered thinking that I wouldn’t mind riding behind him on a snowmobile the rest of my life. I closed my eyes and thought about the look on his face when he’d thrown Lacey into the air and swung her around. And when his whole body had shook as he stood at the top of the ladder after seeing his sister almost die. He hadn’t cared what it would cost him; he would get that tree decorated. For her. Emotion filled my throat. Unwilling tears filled my eyes. Kevin was an amazing person.

  I wasn’t as nearly as amazing as him. I hadn’t even been able to talk to my parents about the letter. I’d wanted to ask my mom, but I’d always been afraid of the answer. Having a relationship with her, at a distance, had been all I could do. I was still afraid of what they would say.

  The snowmobile slowed and, to my amazement, we stopped at the old campsite I remembered going to with his family several times.

  “Stay here.”

  He jumped off and undid the bag tethered behind me.

  He pulled out two camp chairs, a blanket, marshmallows, and roasting sticks. He efficiently dug the snow out of the fire pit and pulled some wood from his bag. He used a flint to start the fire. “Welcome to the place of warmth.”

  I grinned. “Nice.”

  He turned back and moved next to me, wrapping me into a hug. “I did this for me. Purely selfish.”

  I let myself be hugged, accepting the fact that, even though it didn’t seem possible, everything had changed since I’d driven back into Snow Valley.

  He moved to the chairs, holding up a blanket.

  I slipped into the chair, already feeling warmer. “Thank you.”

  He nodded and pulled a thermos out of the pack. “I also brought refreshment.” He handed it to me. “And one of your favorites.” He pointed to the marshmallows.

  The last time I’d roasted marshmallows had been with him. “This is awesome!”

  He shrugged and his eyes fixed onto mine. “When you’re trying to win back a girl, you have to pull out all the stops.”

  Chills ran through me.

  He handed me a stick and leveled me with another stare. “And I am trying to win you back, Molly O’Hare.” He took my hand. “I’m sorry about your parents, but they love you. I know they do.”

  I didn’t speak, but took the stick and put the marshmallow on. I held it right above the fire.

  Companionably, he joined me and we roasted together.

  We sat like that for a few minutes. Finally, I had to ask. “So, tell me what you’ve been doing the last two and a half years.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Today my mom told me all about your running.”

  His lip went up. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You asked?”

  I let out a breath. “She has a way of squeezing in information once you open the door.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Well, your mother loves me.”

  “Yes, she does.” I pushed away the thoughts of her running from the room.

  “I went to class, I studied, I hung out.”

  College life, yes. “And you got engaged?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah.”

  I didn’t really want to know, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Was she pretty?”

  He scoffed. “All of them were pretty.”

  Exasperation surged through me. I pulled back my hand. “Multiples?”

  He laughed and reached back for my hand. “I’m just kidding. I was only engaged once, but I knew it wouldn’t work out, so I broke it off.”

  Satisfaction wound into me. “Hmm. Did you have a part time job?” I tried to change the subject.

  “You could call it that.”

  “What does that mean?”

  His eyes twinkled. “I have a company.”

  “Really? What kind of company?”

  The same look that he got when he discussed his art crossed his face. “Umm…” He trailed.

  A happy flutter went through me. “Are you selling your paintings?” They had always been exceptionally good, but he’d never accepted the compliments.

  His eyes misted. “I have a painting of you.”

  This took me off guard. “O-kay.”

  He shook his head. “It’s of you swinging in that stupid swing.” He looked away.

  I cleared my throat and tried to stop my heart from beating out of my chest. “Will you show it to me sometime?”

  Immediately he flashed a grin. “I’d like that.”

  Our eyes held. The moment seemed to slow down.

  He sucked in a breath. “Remember how you used to tell me that I needed to do something that merged my business ideas with my art?”

  “Yes.”

  “I own a graphic arts design company. I have two other graphic designers that work for me.”

  I grinned. “That’s incredible.”

  He shrugged. “With Janet getting worse, I knew I wanted to be home. I kept thinking about how I could make a living, be here and finish my degree online…then last year, it all just sort of fell into place.” He cleared his throat. “But I could sure use someone business minded to help me take it to the next level. Someone brilliant at marketing.”

  Excitement flashed into me. He knew I loved selling things. He knew I’d always dreamed of owning businesses and growing businesses. “Hmm.” I said, trying to feign aloofness.

  Kevin watched my face, his eyes grew more intense. “Do you know what’s felt completely wrong since I’ve been back?”

  “What?”

  He took off his glove and slowly moved a strand of hair out of my face. “The fact that you’re not here with me.” He removed his beanie cap and I was abruptly overcome by the fact that I wanted to run my hand over his black hair.

  “What?” He stared at me.

  I looked down. “I like the facial hair.” I hated that I knew I was blushing and couldn’t stop it.


  He laughed. “You’re so beautiful when you’re embarrassed.”

  I looked back up. “Whatever.”

  “You are.” He lightly traced my jawbone down to my chin. “Molly O’Hare, you bewitch me.” He smoothed his hand down my hair. “You and this red hair. Not to mention your business sense.” He grinned. “I’ve always had this…this need to be with you.”

  At this point I couldn’t deny the butterflies that had erupted and went up into my chest. I couldn’t deny the way his touch burned me and cooled me.

  “Do you know what O’Hare means?”

  This wasn’t the conversation I’d expected. “What?”

  “It means—above the rest.”

  “Okay.”

  He pulled his marshmallow off the roaster and held it in his hand. “You’re father told me that once. I think I was seven or eight. I didn’t think about it until you were gone.” He sat back into the camp chair. “I thought about it one night when I was out here.”

  “With her?”

  He didn’t speak for a few seconds. “No. It was after I broke things off with her.”

  I swallowed hard, thinking about the fact he had almost married someone else.

  A sardonic laugh went out of him.

  “What?”

  He leaned closer to me and put a hand over mine. “I want you to hear me, Mol. I want you to know that I…I’ve never stopped thinking about you.” His eyes grew serious. “Loving you.”

  The second he said those words it was like an electrical storm went through me. I knew the truth of them. “Kevin.” Tears were in my eyes, again. “Don’t do that.” Except this time—I pled with him, instead of ordering him.

  He grinned, the sides of his eyes creasing. “I can’t help it, Molly O’Hare, we are meant to be together.” He winked at me. “If you could just forgive me for not coming after you when I should have.”

  “At least calling.” I blurted out too quickly.

  He laughed and took my hand. “Exactly. I thought I was letting you have a life outside of Snow Valley. I thought by letting you go, you could choose to come back or not. You could choose me or not.”

  I let out a sigh. “I don’t care what you say, letting me go sure felt like dumping me.”

  He snuggled closer to me. “What do you say? Will you forgive an idiot that was a fool to let you go without a fight?”

  My mouth went dry. He was close. Fresh rain washed through me. The memory of kissing him renewed me. “Possibly.”

  “I think you should forgive your parents, too.”

  My heart felt heavy and I blinked.

  He leaned closer, gently pulling our foreheads together. “I want you in my life forever.”

  A tear fell down my cheek. I’d guarded my emotions for so long. So many times I’d refused to go on dates. I’d resisted the set ups from Christina. I knew I felt the same way. “Kevin.” I breathed out.

  He sucked in a breath. “Can I kiss you, Mol?”

  I closed the gap between us. “You might have won the race, but I kissed you first.” I pressed my lips to his, feeling the tickle of his mustache.

  For a second he didn’t move, then he pressed closer to me, his lips moving against mine.

  Every part of me felt how right this moment was. All I wanted was to stay here, smelling his cologne, feeling his soft lips on mine, tasting marshmallow. I loved him. I knew I had never stopped loving him.

  He pulled back and stared into my eyes. “You’re the winner, Molly O’Hare, you’ve always been the winner.

  Chapter 18

  I woke to the smell of ham and eggs. I’d gotten back late and gone to bed, afraid of the confrontation. Afraid of not having the confrontation. But I hadn’t slept well. I stared at the ceiling and wondered how I’d done the unspeakable in less than two full days in Snow Valley—told my parents about the letter and fallen for Kevin Snow.

  I got up and thought of Kevin’s words…forgive them. I looked out the window. He wasn’t sitting on the tire swing. Disappointment rippled through me. I noticed a cherry red SUV parked in the driveway. I didn’t recognize it. Not like I would, I told myself. It was none of my business whose it was. I grinned, letting the blinds fall back into place. I’d become a stalker.

  I sat on the bed, reluctantly checking my texts. A couple from Stan leaving me last minute instructions. I got in the shower, dressed, and padded down the stairs. My heart pounded into my chest. What would they say?

  I got to the bottom of the stairs and saw the very normal scene of my mom on a footstool decorating the Christmas tree. My father was on the couch, a book in his hands, his glasses perched on his nose.

  “Oh,” my mother saw me and almost fell.

  “Mom.” I ran to her, catching her as she safely stepped down.

  Neither of us moved for a second.

  “Molly.” My father’s low, baritone voice. “It’s time we did some explaining.”

  I let her go and wondered if my heart would pound up and out of my throat. “Okay.”

  My mother gestured for me to sit on the piano bench. She sat next to my father on the couch. “Sit.”

  When important moments happen in your life, you never think about the small things that will affect you. Their hands together affected me for some reason, seeing them unify, holding together as they faced me.

  My dad pulled his glasses off. “I met your mother right after she had graduated and I was here working for my Uncle Jack that summer. I was going to start school in Billings that fall.”

  I thought of hearing them talk about how they had married so young before. I swallowed. “Okay.”

  My mother cleared her throat. “Sweetie, before we tell you everything, I want you to know that you have been the best thing in our life. Okay?” Her eyes were watery.

  I resisted the urge to let my eyes fill. I nodded, wanting it to be true.

  My father let out a tired sigh. “I knew your mother was extraordinary. She was a lot like you, my Molly. But, she was a dancer. When I met her, she had an offer to go to New York and dance with a professional company.”

  My heart thumped fast. “I knew she’d been a dancer, but I didn’t know she’d been that good of a dancer.”

  My father blinked. “She was a glorious dancer. She danced like nothing you’d ever seen—like the wind moving over the hills—fresh, easy, beautiful.” His eyes went to their hands. “I’m ashamed to say that I was no gentleman, I got her pregnant.”

  Traitor tears filled my eyes.

  My mother shook her head. “Don’t cry. Don’t you cry. You have been the greatest thing in my life.” My mother swiped at her own tears.

  My father reached forward and took my hand. “I didn’t know what to do. I was young. Stupid. I didn’t react well. I felt like I was stealing your mother’s youth.” Tears filled his eyes. “That’s when I wrote that letter.”

  I’d ruined her life. Stolen her dreams.

  My mother pounded her fist into her knee. “It was my fault he felt that way, I didn’t react well, either. I was upset.”

  My father put his hand over her fist. “Your condition…it made things complicated.”

  Her condition. Understanding washed through me. “Your hip?”

  My mother’s face went red, she glared at my father. “I told you not to do this.”

  My father shook his head and turned to me. “Molly, your mother had been advised from an early age that having children would make her hip worse.”

  “Don’t.” My mother yanked her hand back. She wagged her finger at me. “I have never regretted having you. I didn’t know what joy was…until you were born.”

  My father nodded. “I was stupid to suggest an abortion. I was wrong. I knew that loving your mother was the only thing I wanted in my life…”

  He hadn’t gone to school because he’d stayed to take care of his family. He’d taken over Uncle Jack’s ranch.

  Once again I was part of a movie. The kind of dramatic, ridiculous movie that flipped the whole plot u
pside down. The events of what probably happened played out in my mind. A girl with a future. A handsome boy. An unwanted pregnancy. A condition that would make it so she couldn’t dance. A condition that would make it so my father would have to stay in Snow Valley.

  Me.

  I really had stolen both of their futures.

  My father took my mother’s hand back. “Can you forgive me for that letter?”

  Tears fell down my mother’s face and she closed her eyes. “I should have destroyed that letter a long time ago. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

  Slowly, I focused on my mother. I had to know. “Did you want an abortion?”

  “I wanted you.” She answered quickly. “When I went into that abortion clinic, I just knew it was the wrong thing.” She wiped at her eyes. “God’s plan is better than our plan. He knew what He was doing by giving me a precious, beautiful daughter.”

  Abortion clinic. She’d gone to the clinic? I looked her up and down. My parents weren’t old. Early forties, not old enough for heart attacks and hip conditions. But would they even be together now? “Mom, you didn’t want me?”

  “I always wanted you.”

  I shook my head, trying to clear the jumbled thoughts. I thought of a documentary I’d watched on abortion clinics once. The people that put babies in trash cans. “Did you want me or not Mom?”

  Anger darkened my father’s face. “Don’t you snap at your mother, young lady.”

  I shot off the couch and up the stairs. “I don’t understand what God’s plan has to do with anything.” I shouted back.

  I packed quickly, my hands shaking. I’d thought that my father wrote the letter, but I’d never doubted that my mother wanted me. Not once.

  Until now. I’d ruined their lives.

  I ran down the stairs, making a jaunt into the kitchen to get my keys.

  “Molly, stop.”

  My father stood next to the door. My mother wasn’t in sight.

  “Move, please.” I slowed.

  “You don’t understand.”

  I maneuvered around him and flung the door open.

  “Molly—your mother’s degenerative hip condition—she’s always had that.”

  The deck was slick and I almost fell as I pulled my rolling bag after me. I got my balance and turned back.