She broke from the kiss, twisted away, laughing.
He wore an innocent look. Until one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. "Still ticklish, I guess?"
But his smile didn't quite reach all the way to his eyes.
Her giggles faded. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
She gave him a look.
"I just… I don't know how to do this."
"What? Have a long-distance girlfriend?"
Silence lengthened.
"Is that our relationship status now?"
Her heart pounded as she looked up into his face. Had she jumped the gun? He hadn't returned her declaration of love this morning.
He hadn’t had to. She could see his feelings on his face.
She took her scarf from around her neck and tossed it in a loop over his. Used it to reel him in. "We can take things one day at a time."
"I've only got today," he reminded her.
"Then I guess we'd better make it count."
In the ranch house kitchen, Sam broke two eggs into a mixing bowl.
Mallory sat on the counter next to the stove, her legs swinging, leaning on her hands propped next to her thighs on the marble.
She still wore that stupid Santa hat, the white ball on the point bashing into her cheek every time she moved her head.
She was grinning. And completely in the way as he chopped a pepper for the omelets.
He liked her there.
Girlfriend.
Her casual comment kept ping-ponging through his brain. How easily she'd accepted the next relationship status.
How readily she accepted him.
"You're good at this," she said.
He almost nicked his finger but pretended nothing had happened. "Don't sound so surprised."
She shrugged. "I always imagine you living off takeout. That's what Cash does in Austin."
He used the knife to slide the chopped pepper to one side of the cutting board, then reached for the whole tomato.
"Too expensive. And the food's bad for you."
The knife sliced into the crimson flesh.
"Your mom got me interested," he said, hoping he’d affected a casual tone. It wasn't easy. "I made my very first omelet under her tutelage."
When he paused his chopping and glanced up, Mal's eyes had gone soft and serious. "She loved you."
The punch of grief was hard enough to steal his breath. But he panted through it, concentrating on the tomato until every slice was chopped, until the cinch banding his chest loosened.
Mal tipped her head toward him. "I kind of think she's looking down from heaven and smiling at us right now."
He shook his head with an exasperated smile. Probably her mom was rolling over in her grave. Mrs. Trudeau had witnessed him go through some very unfavorable times.
Girlfriend.
He moved past her to pour the whisked eggs into the pan, where they sizzled. Detoured to the sink to rinse the mixing bowl.
She had no idea what life with a soldier meant. Of what a long-distance relationship felt like.
When he stepped to go past her in the opposite direction—aiming for the spatula in the drawer—she straightened one leg so that he was blocked.
"What's the password?" she demanded playfully.
He smacked a kiss on the end of her nose.
She smiled. "Wrong."
He couldn't help it. He let both hands slip into her hair. He held her there gently as he plundered her mouth, tasting the sweetness that was all Mallory beyond the coffee she'd drunk when they'd come in from the barn.
He could barely remember his name when he pulled away, much less what he'd been doing.
The sizzle from the stove reminded him. Spatula.
He pointed a finger at her as he moved to retrieve the utensil. "Quit distracting me, Mal-Monster." The childhood nickname slipped out, but she only shook her head, her eyes soft.
He should've known better than to let his defenses down.
"You've got a bee in your saddle blanket. Something's bugging you," she said.
Girlfriend.
He kept his focus on the pan, on flipping one side of the omelet to make a perfect half-moon. Evade. "How could anything be wrong?"
She nudged his thigh with one sock foot. "Tell me. Is it because I said the g-word out in the barn? Did I freak you out?"
Mal was too perceptive.
She also knew more about him than anyone else, except maybe Cash.
How was it that she didn't know he wanted so much more?
He just didn't trust that he was allowed to have it.
"I can't call home every day," he dared to voice as he flipped the omelet. Almost done.
He got another nudge from her toes. "You said call home." Without looking, he could tell she was smiling.
He flipped off the stove, moved the pan off the hot burner to the cooler side.
He went to her, let his hands rest on the counter on each side of her. "Mal, I'm being serious. I won't be here on your birthday. Thanksgiving. Maybe not even next Christmas. What if...?”
"I get tired of waiting around?" she asked.
She always saw through him.
He closed his eyes, squeezing his hands against the cool countertop. She'd made him dare to dream that she could be his. That maybe they did belong together. He couldn't bear the thought of getting a phone call—or email—that said she'd grown tired of him.
Her hands settled on top of his, warm and soft and there. That stupid hat brushed his jaw, then her cheek bumped his chin as she placed a kiss beneath his jaw.
A whole body shiver wracked him.
"I've waited years for you to notice me. I'm not giving up on you anytime soon."
He let his arms come around her waist. She clutched his shoulders. Holding him.
He buried his face in her neck.
He wasn't good at this. The touchy-feeling stuff that Mal seemed to need from him. He'd never had a good example—couldn't remember one time that his father had said I love you or touched him without the intention of hurting him.
He only knew that he would die if she stopped wanting him. If she changed her mind. If she figured out what he already knew—that he wasn't worth dirt.
Were these crazy feelings love? He thought so.
But he didn't know how to say any of that, so he just held her tighter.
"I know," she whispered. One hand stroked his shoulder.
And because Mallory was her mother's daughter, she probably did know.
He'd meant to drive himself to the airport, but Mallory had insisted on making the drive. She had a good argument about taking his truck back to the ranch for safekeeping during his deployment.
She didn't have to argue very hard.
He wanted her with him for every second of every minute he had left.
In his fatigues with his duffel slung over his shoulder, he had her tucked under his arm as they traversed the airport parking garage. She hadn't listened when he'd asked her to drop him off.
She was snug in place, her arm around his waist, matching his steps.
He'd never imagined he'd have the chance to call Mallory his. Never imagined feeling his insides ripped in two because he had to leave her.
His pulse pounded in his temples.
He was acutely aware that she'd made a declaration early this morning beneath the Christmas tree. Her whispered I love you had lit him up inside like a huge New York City Christmas tree.
He hadn't said it back.
He wasn't a coward. It was just... His feelings were all jumbled up.
An absent mother and crap father were all he had to go on. The Trudeaus had changed his life, giving him what love they could. But they were gone now, too. Cash wouldn't understand how conflicted he felt inside. Sam was worried that somehow his sordid past would come alive inside him, and he’d hurt Mallory.
She was quiet as they crossed several traffic lanes and passed through a small cluster of passengers. The airport was quiet co
mpared to its usual bustle. No one wanted to travel on Christmas. He'd been glad to plan it that way, but not now.
She stood nearby as he checked in for his flight via a kiosk, walked with him toward the security line. She wouldn't be able to follow him any further.
It was time to say goodbye.
He turned to her, set his carry-on at their feet. Took her hands.
The words were right there, trapped behind his breastbone.
And she was looking up at him with her heart in her eyes. "I have something else to give you," she said. Her voice shook slightly.
"Mal, I don't need anything else." She was the best gift he'd ever received.
"I want to." She wiggled one hand until he released it, dug in her front jeans pocket. And came up with... a gold band.
"After Mom and Dad passed, Cash kept Mom's ring," she said softly.
His heart rose to his throat as he guessed what she was going to say next.
"This was Dad's," she whispered.
He held up his empty hand to refuse her. "Mal, I can't…"
Her lips firmed in a way he recognized. She spoke over him. "I'm not going to change my mind. About you. About us."
She pressed the simple gold band into his palm. "I want you to keep this until you're sure about me. You don't have to wear it."
He let go of her other hand to reach up to his neck. He fished his chain and dog tags from beneath his shirt and quickly slipped the ring onto the chain. He wouldn't take it off.
His heart was pounding now, and he took her in his arms. Kissed her until they were both breathless.
Or maybe he was breathless with fear.
He tugged her close to his chest, pressed his cheek against her hair. Closed his eyes.
"I love you," he whispered.
She clung even more tightly to his neck. "I know."
He breathed her in.
"I won't forget," she said.
Neither would he.
* * *
Find out what happens with Sam and Mallory on Christmas Eve one year later… get the bonus story Christmas Ever After.
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One dance. Now he’s upside-down.
The Cattlemen's Christmas Ball was supposed to be business as usual, but single father Jace Cantrell’s world just got turned on its head. How is it he never noticed just how beautiful his son’s nanny is?
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Amber Moore has harbored a secret crush on Jace for months. A dress that cost more than a month's wages might be enough to turn his head. But will a girl with a past like hers be enough to keep him?
Jace isn't the only one who notices Amber. When a friend asks him to play Cyrano, he finds himself stuck between friendship and an undeniable attraction…
Three couples. One unforgettable Christmas.
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Copyright © 2018 by Lacy Williams
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