A Christmas for Carrie

by Alison Packard

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” Paula asked, a smile wreathing her face as she looked up.

  “Very much so.” Carrie disposed of the plates in the plastic trash can by the back door. A week ago she never would have dreamed she’d be attending a Christmas party, let alone declaring aloud she was having a wonderful time. “Do you need some help?” she offered. “I can take the desserts into the dining room if you’d like.”

  “That would be a big help.” Paula finished slicing the pie, set the knife on the counter and reached up to tuck an errant lock of dark hair behind her ear. “While you do that, I’ll put on some coffee. Do you—”

  Nick burst into the kitchen, stopped and exhaled a deep breath. “Houston, we’ve got a problem. Uncle Vic and his girlfriend just arrived.”

  “Holy shit,” Paula said and cast an apologetic glance at Carrie. “Pardon my French.”

  Carrie nodded with sympathetic understanding. On the drive over, Nick had filled her in on the Uncle Vic situation. Having him show up with the girlfriend was bound to cause some tension.

  Nick’s mother put a hand to her now pale cheek. “Where’s your father?”

  “Last I saw him, he and Beth Ann’s husband went down to the basement. Dad wanted to show Randy how the remodel was coming along. Do you want me to get him?”

  “No. I’ll go,” Paula said and hurried out of the kitchen.

  “You’re never gonna believe this.” Nick scrubbed a hand over his jaw, looking a bit shell-shocked. “Guess who the girlfriend is.”

  Carrie spread her hands and shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “Alicia.”

  “Alicia Walsh?” Carrie took a quick breath of utter astonishment. “Are you serious?”

  “Totally.” Nick angled his head and grimaced as he tugged at the neck of his charcoal gray cashmere sweater. “Uncle Vic is a year younger than my dad and Alicia is our age. Talk about robbing the cradle.”

  “He’s like a male cougar.” Carrie grinned as Nick stared at her blankly then chuckled at her analogy. “Did she recognize you?”

  “No. But remember, we didn’t run in the same social circles in high school.”

  “Does she look the same?” Carrie asked, wondering how the past fourteen years had treated the most popular girl in high school. Was it wrong to hope the witch hadn’t aged gracefully? Probably, but too bad. As the saying went, karma was a fickle bitch.

  “I guess.” He shrugged. “She’s still blonde.”

  “And beautiful?” she prompted. Did Nick still find his former crush attractive? Had he taken one look at her and, once again, fallen under her spell?

  “It’s hard to tell under the shitload of makeup she’s wearing. But, yeah, I guess she’s still good-looking.”

  Good-looking wasn’t the same as beautiful. Carrie liked that answer...a lot. And Nick didn’t appear besotted, just the opposite, he seemed disinterested—at least in Alicia.

  “My firm represented her when she filed for divorce,” Carrie said. “Her ex is wealthy and quite a bit older. From what I heard, the settlement was exceedingly generous.”

  “I guess she likes rich older guys. Uncle Vic’s loaded.” Nick glanced at his watch. “I’d love to get the hell out of here, but I should probably stay for a little while and talk to my uncle. I haven’t seen him since last Christmas. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all,” she said, and rubbed her hands together with—dare she say it—glee. This was like one of the parties on her favorite soap opera, A New Dawn. Where anything could, and usually did, happen. “This is getting good.”

  “Jones, you have a sick sense of humor.” Nick’s gaze was somber, but then he shot her a wicked grin. “I have to say, I find that very attractive.”

  “It’s about time you found something about me attractive. I’ve been waiting for like fourteen years.” Oh damn. Why had she said that? Her heart pounded double time as Nick regarded her with puzzled eyes.

  “What are you talking about?” That cute crease reappeared between his eyebrows as he frowned.

  “You’re not the only one who had a crush in high school,” she admitted, holding his gaze. “I had one too.”

  Several seconds passed before Nick put a finger to his chest. “Me?” he asked incredulously.

  “Yes. You.”

  “Nick.” Vince stuck his head in the kitchen. “Your uncle’s asking for you.”

  “I’ll be there in a second,” Nick said, running a hand through his hair as Vince disappeared. His mouth tugged with a wry grin. “My dad has rotten timing. We’ll continue this conversation later.” The husky cadence of his voice made Carrie’s body hum in anticipation. “Would you care to join me in the living room?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with boyish mischief. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and my aunt will show up.”

  Carrie let out a burst of laughter. “And you think I have a sick sense of humor?”

  * * *

  Kill me now, Nick thought as Alicia finished regaling the party guests with all the intimate details of her fabulous life. Like anyone cared about her trip to the Amalfi coast in Italy, or that she was “close personal friends” with a reality show star famous for having a sex tape and a really big ass, or that the former governor of California had attended the fundraiser she’d recently hosted at some posh restaurant in Sacramento.

  This was the girl he’d lusted after in high school? What in fuck’s name had he been thinking? Thank God she’d never looked twice at him. He would have dropped dead from sheer boredom during their first conversation.

  Standing next to his uncle, who was more enthralled with Alicia’s breasts than by what she was saying, Nick found his gaze drawn to Carrie. Sitting on the couch in between Beth Ann and Randy, Carrie appeared to be listening intently to Alicia, but judging by her glazed expression, she was as uninterested in the conversation as he was. Surreptitiously glancing at his watch, he figured they could make a graceful exit in about ten minutes.

  Getting Carrie alone had been his plan since he’d picked her up at her house earlier in the evening. But now that she’d dropped that little bomb about having a crush on him in high school, he was even more motivated to be alone with her. He had questions that needed answers, damn it. To think that for two whole school years he’d never had a clue as to how she felt about him was, well, mind-boggling to say the least. She’d liked him the whole time and he’d been an oblivious fool who spent most of their time together talking about the girl who, right now, was most likely to be charged with the crime of boring everyone to death.

  “Nick, you look very familiar.”

  “What?” Nick tore his attention from Carrie and found Alicia’s curious blue gaze resting on him. “I’m sorry. Were you talking to me?”

  “Yes.” Alicia pursed her red and overly glossed lips. “I feel like we’ve met somewhere before.”

  “We were in the same graduating class in high school.”

  Alicia’s eyes widened as she put a hand to her ample and barely covered chest. “We were? Did we have any classes together?”

  “Freshman year. I sat next to you in biology.”

  Alicia tried to frown but, not surprisingly, her forehead didn’t move. She searched his face and then, with a look of recognition, pointed a red-tipped finger in his direction. “Wait a minute. Aren’t you the boy that passed out when we dissected frogs?”

  Son of a bitch. Of course she’d remember that. “Yeah. That was me,” he said, feeling his face grow warm. Fourteen years out of high school and he still couldn’t escape the most mortifying experience of his life. Thank God cell phones weren’t a student staple back then. Alicia or one of her devoted minions would have posted it all over the Internet.

  “I was in a class with you too,” Carrie interjected in a cheery tone. “Chemistry. Junior year. Remember when your hair caught on fi
re from the Bunsen burner? I’m the girl who poured a beaker of water on your head.”

  Beth Ann patted Carrie’s hand. “Quick thinking, Carrie. You may have saved poor Alicia from being permanently scarred.”

  “It was nothing,” Carrie said with an impish grin and a modest wave of her other hand. “I was happy to do it.”

  “You did go a bit overboard, though,” Alicia replied with a cool smile. “As I recall, it was two beakers, not one.”

  Carrie shrugged. “When it comes to fire, you can’t be too careful.”

  As Nick tried not to laugh, his mother rose from her perch on a nearby chair and smoothed her hands down her navy-blue skirt. “Would anyone care for coffee? I just put on a fresh pot. And don’t forget dessert. I’ve got two pies, a cake and some cookies.”

  “Thank you, Paula. But I’m watching my weight,” Alicia said, looking pointedly at Beth Ann, who, if Nick had to guess, was carrying an extra twenty pounds.

  “I doubt one piece of pie is going to do much damage,” Carrie said, directing her attention to Beth Ann. “Beth Ann? Randy? How about it? Care to join me?”

  After Carrie disappeared into the dining room with Beth Ann, Randy and a woman who worked with his father, Nick excused himself and followed his mother into the kitchen. He’d noted the grim set of her jaw the entire time Alicia was talking about herself and knew what it was costing her to keep her true feelings in check. Paula Johnson was known for speaking her mind.

  He leaned his hip against the counter and watched her as she retrieved coffee cups from the overhead cupboard near the sink. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She turned and, to his surprise, she had a smile on her face. “I like Carrie.”

  “I like her too.”

  “You’re leaving town after Christmas and she’s got a nice job in Auburn. Do you think it’s fair to her to start something you can’t finish?”

  “Who says I’m starting anything?”

  “I’m not blind, Nick. I saw the way you were looking at her last weekend when we trimmed the tree and then again tonight.”

  Was he that obvious? Nick shifted uncomfortably under his mother’s direct gaze. “We’re adults, Mom.”

  “So mind my own business?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But that’s what you meant.” Paula sighed and rested her palms on the counter. “I know you would never intentionally hurt Carrie, but it could still happen. I don’t know a lot about her, but what I do know from town gossip is enough for me to know that she had it rough with those parents of hers.”

  “I don’t plan on hurting her.” Nick paused before putting what he’d been feeling into words. “I care about her.”

  His mother’s eyes softened. “Just be careful with her heart, son. That’s all I’m saying.”

  * * *

  “This was a great idea,” Carrie said after sipping the hot chocolate Nick had convinced her they should pick up at Starbucks after they’d left the party. Sitting on the floral sofa in her living room, Carrie stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace, supremely aware of Nick’s masculine presence next to her.

  He smelled amazing. But then, he always had. These days, although the cologne he wore was subtle, it made her a bit weak in the knees every time she was near him. In high school he’d smelled of soap, just plain soap, but it had affected her the same way.

  “Hot chocolate was made for nights like this,” Nick said, looking around the room, which was now warm from the fire and the furnace she’d turned on when they’d first arrived. “You like antiques.”

  “Yes,” Carrie replied. “There’s something about the history of the pieces that intrigues me. I wonder how many people owned them before I bought them. You know, what those people’s lives were like. I picked up my kitchen table at an estate sale a year ago. It has two drawers, one on each end. When I opened one of them, there were initials carved into the wood. It was like that person was saying don’t forget me. I was here. I existed.”

  “I know what you mean.” Nick leaned forward, set his cup on the coffee table then eased back. “When I bought my house in San Francisco and was prepping the kitchen for paint, I noticed pencil marks on the door frame inside the pantry. Whoever lived there before me had marked their children’s heights for several years. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to paint over it.”

  “Maybe someday you’ll be marking your kids’ height on that door frame,” Carrie said before sipping her chocolate. She imagined miniature versions of Nick lining up to have their height marked by their father and was surprised by something she’d never felt before—a pang of maternal longing. Taken aback, she almost choked on her hot chocolate. What in the world was happening to her? Not only was she participating in holiday activities, she was thinking about children. It was as if her life had turned into one of those cheesy Lifetime movies—like the one with Kayla Maxwell—where the Scrooge-like main character learns about life and love at Christmas time.

  “Maybe.” Nick shifted toward her and stretched his arm over the back of the sofa just behind her. They weren’t touching, but still, it felt intimate. The goose bumps prickling her skin could attest to that. “Was it just me, or was this evening a bit surreal?”

  “It’s not just you.” Carrie finished her chocolate and set the empty cup on the side table to her left. Turning to Nick, she smiled. “And for the record, I always thought that story of you passing out in biology was a myth.”

  Nick grimaced. “As much as it pains me to admit it, it really happened. That was the day I knew I could never cut it as a doctor.”

  “Was that actually one of your career choices?” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed his hand resting on top of the sofa cushion and immediately thought of Gillian’s assertion that a man with small hands was small in another portion of his anatomy. Nick’s hands weren’t small. Her belly tightened with a mixture of need and anticipation.

  “Not really, but since I wasn’t tall enough or talented enough to make in the NBA I had to consider other options. And since medicine and math genius were out, I went with sports agent.”

  Carrie chuckled. “You weren’t that bad at math once you applied yourself.”

  “Thanks to you. You made it seem easy.” His smile faded and within seconds the air in the room shimmered with electricity. Nick touched her hair, sifting his fingers through the ends that curled around her shoulder. It was innocent, yet a thrill raced up her spine. “I think it’s time we finish that conversation, don’t you?”

  Carrie didn’t have to ask what conversation he meant. “About that,” she began, trying to ignore the fact that Nick suddenly seemed a lot closer. Had he moved? Or had she? Oh hell. It didn’t matter. The faint stubble on his jaw and the golden flecks in his light brown eyes affected her too much to care. “I think I may have given you the wrong impression.”

  His brow arched. “So you didn’t have a crush on me?”

  “Yes. I did. A massive one, in fact. But despite how my comment may have sounded, I haven’t lived like a nun the past fourteen years pining away for you.”

  “Thank God.” Nick grinned. “That would be weird.”

  Carrie chuckled. “Very.”

  Nick let go of her hair and rested his hand on her shoulder where his fingers seemed to burn through the fabric of her dress to her skin; the result was a gush of heat that flooded the area between her legs. What the hell? Either she’d gone too long without sex, or Nick had the knack for turning women on without trying too awfully hard. “Let’s get back to the crush,” he said, the intimate tone in his voice not helping her equilibrium any.

  “It wasn’t a big deal. All teenagers have crushes.” She raised her brows. “Remember?”

  Nick groaned. “Oh, Jesus. Don’t remind me. What did I see in her?”

  “Uh,
hello. Blond hair, blue eyes, knockout body.”

  “You’re right. I was blinded by her appearance and totally missed self-absorbed, vain and not too bright.” Nick’s gaze roamed over her face, lingering on her mouth. “If only I’d opened my eyes, I would have seen...”

  “What?” she whispered as her heart began to beat in double time. “What would you have seen?”

  “You,” Nick murmured, then leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. It took only one second for his lips to go from soft to demanding, and another two seconds for his arm to slip around her and pull her against his hard chest. Fueled by the desire that had been simmering inside her all evening, Carrie parted her mouth and met his tongue with hers, deepening the kiss until it was wet, drugging, and left her aching for more.

  Too soon, Nick pulled back, leaving them both breathless. Against hers, his body was warm and solid. She didn’t move; she’d been craving physical contact with him for days. “I can’t believe we used to lie on your bed studying and talking, and kissing you never once occurred to me.”

  “It occurred to me.” Carrie smiled. “A lot.”

  “What did you see in me?” He slipped his hand from her waist and lightly stroked her bare arm with his fingers. Her skin prickled pleasurably under his gentle touch. “I was a total geek.”

  “True,” she said, then laughed at Nick’s look of mock surprise. “But you were such a cute geek.”

  “Funny.” Nick rolled his eyes. “How’s my plan working?”

  “Which one?”

  “I have more than one?” he asked, giving her a puzzled look.

  “Don’t you?”

  Nick’s brow furrowed. “Is this a trick question?”

  Carrie laughed. “No. To answer your question, both of your plans are currently enjoying a high success rate.”

  “I only have one plan,” he said. “And that’s to convince you that Christmas can be fun. What other plan do you think I have?”

  “The one where you stay the night.”