Love for the Holidays (five book Christmas bundle)

by Noelle Adams

  It had taken everything in him to nod instead of smirk. Kyle doubted that anyone would care that he’d slept with his college girlfriend a million years ago, but there was a kernel of truth in what Claire said. He was only a year older, but he had been the more experienced between them. He was Laney’s first. She’d wanted him to be her only, and he had promised her the moon to get in her pants.

  He hadn’t lied about loving her, wanting to marry her, being together forever, but in the end, that hadn’t been enough. He’d thought it was just a break, but when she didn’t come home the next summer, and then went east for medical school, he knew the split was permanent, and he forgot that he was the one responsible. It took him a long time to move on. He dated casually for a few years, pretending to enjoy his bachelorhood. Actually, he had enjoyed sowing his wild oats, and he made some good friends, but every summer he was reminded of that too-short season when he finally had Laney before he lost her again. Every fall he’d slowly get back into the routine, only to spend Christmas hoping to run into her, wondering if she was at the farm. For five years his life was stuck in a holding pattern. When he heard she was moving from Halifax to Calgary, he crawled into a bottle of Jack Daniels, and almost went home with a blond whose eyes weren’t quite the same shade of ice blue, but close enough to pretend. When he called her Laney and got slapped for the mistake, something snapped into place. That wasn’t who he was or what he wanted.

  Another five years went by before he saw Laney at her father’s funeral, and his world tipped upside down again.

  Laney stood on the porch outside the kitchen door, watching as her family headed off to do their last minute shopping. She could have gone with them after all, because she’d woken early and had already submitted her blog posts for the upcoming week and scheduled a few tweets about the children who would benefit from the New Year’s Eve gala, but after the non-stop chatter about Lego and video games over breakfast, she decided to stick with her original plan. Remembering the bag of presents she’d left in her car the day before, she moved down the steps. The snow crunched under her feet, bright white under the clear winter sky. She pressed a button on her key fob and the car doors unlocked with a loud click. She paused for a moment, taking in the utter stillness of winter farm life. It pleased her. Chicago was always so busy. Noisy.

  Maybe she needed to buy a cottage.

  As she gazed across the front forty acres, a silver pickup truck pulled up to the old school house. She stopped and watched as Kyle hopped out. He was 300 yards away, but she knew it was him. He started toward the house, but then stopped and turned. Was he looking at her? Could he see her if she didn’t move? She raised her hand to give a tentative wave. It took a moment, but he waved back, then went inside.

  She did the same. Her heart was racing and she knew her face was flushed. She shoved the presents under the Christmas tree and paced to the kitchen. She looked at the door. Her keys were hanging on a hook between the door and the window. A lump formed in her throat. What was she thinking? Good lord, what was she feeling? She wanted to see him again, up close this time. She shivered as raw desire rolled through her body. The open invitation to go over and be with him, just for a little while, was irresistible. She was nineteen again, making excuses to spend time with her sister’s friends, desperate to feel the prickly sensation of his very nearness.

  Don’t do this. You’re just going to get hurt. She stood there for a few minutes, having an internal battle royale. Going over to his house would open Pandora’s box. Didn’t Evie flip that latch already? If she was honest, it wasn’t Evie’s fault. The conversation with Rick had played over and over in her head on the drive from Chicago. Since when was she so cavalier with other people’s feelings? She might not like emotions herself, but they were important to others. Maybe she did need to talk to Kyle, figure out why she felt so much about him and not enough about others. Find some balance, or at the very least, closure.

  Mind made up, heart pounding, she grabbed her keys and headed out the door before she lost her courage.

  Kyle put the groceries away and started a pot of coffee. It had taken all of his self-control not to jump back in the truck after that tentative wave. He had to wait until she was ready to talk. If she wanted to, she’d come to him. The crunch of tires on snow caused something deep in his gut to clench and he moved to the front door, narrowly beating Buddy. The border collie knew better than to bark, but he seemed to think it was his responsibility to screen all visitors. Kyle had come to love that about his furry roommate, but this particular guest he wanted all to himself. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the dog bed next to the wood stove.

  Her footsteps stopped outside the entrance. He wouldn’t let her chicken out. If she turned and walked away, he’d open the door, but he wanted her to be brave and knock. It took long enough that he knew she was nervous, but finally, two short taps announced her presence. He let out a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and opened the door with a welcoming smile.

  “Hey…” Laney trailed off, glancing over her shoulder. “I saw you come home.”

  He nodded. “Want to come in?”

  “Sure. Thanks.” She stepped inside and took a tentative look around.

  “Have you ever been in here before? It’s a bit of a work in progress. I’m doing most of it myself, so it’s slow going.”

  “Once, as a teenager. It had been standing empty for a while at that point. It’s nice, I like what you’ve done.” She wrapped her arms around herself. Was she cold, or nervous? Probably both.

  Kyle stepped back to both gesture to the new kitchen space behind him, and to give her some room. “Do you want some coffee?” She nodded. “I just put on a pot.”

  Laney followed him into the open concept kitchen he had installed in one corner of the large open room. The refinished hardwood floors connected it to the rest of the space, but the dark espresso cabinets, granite countertops and stainless steel appliances stood out. He knew it was impressive, and he wasn’t above strutting a bit for the girl who left Wardham to find success.

  He turned to ask if she still took her coffee with lots of milk and sugar, but the words caught in his throat. Laney had shrugged off her coat and boots, and she was standing in his kitchen, looking at the photos stuck to the side of his refrigerator. She wore white socks, black yoga pants and an oversized white sweater which had slipped off one shoulder, revealing a thin elastic camisole strap. She looked perfectly at home, like they’d just had breakfast and were about to curl up on the couch and read together. Longing shot through Kyle’s gut before he could brace himself against it. His roving gaze halted at the creamy expanse of skin between her shoulder and delicate jaw, his eyes devouring the shadow beneath her chin, the hollow at the base of her neck, the faint blue blood vessels tracing across the top of her chest. Her skin there was nearly translucent, and his fingers itched, remembering the bounce of her pulse, how warm and responsive she was under his touch.

  No good would come of wanting her. But it couldn’t be helped.

  Four

  Laney didn’t know who most of the people in the photographs were, but she stood there looking at them because she wasn’t ready to look at Kyle yet. She hadn’t expected his house to be such a home. For him to be so settled. So happy. When she wasn’t, not really. She was satisfied with her life, and she loved her job, but there was still something missing. She hadn’t made many friends yet in Chicago, something she would have to work on in the spring. She licked her lips and refocused on the photos. She recognized Kyle’s older brother Ian in a few of them, with a beautiful redhead and two small children. Other photos featured similar young families, probably friends Kyle had made after college. The top row of pictures featured his parents and younger sister. The middle photograph was larger than the others, and it looked like something out of a magazine.

  “That’s a nice picture of your whole family,” Laney said quietly, keeping her eyes glued to the fridge. The other photos overlapped it slightly, but she
could tell there was a brunette standing next to Kyle and faint jealousy pulsed in her chest.

  The floor squeaked as he took a step toward her. “My mom hired a professional photographer to come out to their farm. That was two and a half years ago.”

  Another step. She turned enough to acknowledge his presence while still avoiding his gaze. He’d placed special emphasis on how old the photograph was. But yet here it was, on his fridge. She let her eyelids drift close for a moment. It was none of her business.

  She felt the warmth of his fingers before they grazed the outside of her fist. The touch was brief and functional in nature, although her central nervous system didn’t seem to get that message. She covered an unconscious sigh of pleasure with a polite smile and accepted the proffered mug of coffee from his other hand.

  She sipped the sweet, hot liquid. She didn’t put sugar in her coffee anymore, and the punch of nostalgia was more than she could bear. A single tear slipped down her cheek and she pinched her eyes closed, furious at herself.

  He didn’t say anything, turning instead to get himself a cup, when they were interrupted by a quiet whine from the living room. She jerked her head, and Kyle laughed as the whine was followed by a thump. “Buddy’s been pretty patient, but I think he wants to meet you.” He raised his voice slightly. “Okay, come here.”

  A medium sized black and white dog padded into view and Laney couldn’t help but let out a happy sigh. “Hello there!” She dropped to her knees and let him sniff her all over. “Aren’t you a quiet puppy. So patient. Yes, yes, you are. Good boy.”

  Above her, Kyle chuckled. She glanced up and her heart squeezed hard at the warm expression on his face. Buddy rubbed his nose into her shoulder, but he was just another reminder of how very different their lives had turned out. Laney didn’t have a house plant, let alone a living, breathing dependent.

  As if he sensed her growing unease, Kyle nodded to the other side of the kitchen island. “Want to sit? The wood stove is warmer over there.”

  He eased himself into the overstuffed armchair, leaving the matching couch for Laney. She appreciated the effort to give her some space. Buddy looked like he might hop up next to her, which she maybe wouldn’t mind, but his human snapped his fingers and the collie ambled over to an oversized pillow nearby instead.

  “It’s been a long time, eh?” Kyle asked.

  She nodded, still sipping her coffee.

  “You’re in Chicago now?”

  Another nod. Another sip.

  “How are you settling in? Do you…are you…”

  She knew where the question was going, but after the picture on the fridge, she wasn’t sure she wanted to share just how single she was. A quick glance around the open room didn’t reveal any evidence of a woman. The only shoes on the rack at the door looked like Kyle’s. One plate in the drying rack next to the sink. Familiar authors on the spines of his books.

  He tried again. “You didn’t have anyone else to visit over the holidays?”

  She arched one eyebrow.

  “Sorry. None of my business.”

  “No, it’s okay.” His status didn’t matter. You’re happy, remember? Show him that. “Chicago is great. Everything you’ve probably heard and more. It’s a dynamic city and I’ve lucked out with a really good practice. Some of my peers are still doing locums, and I’ve found a place to put down roots.”

  He offered an instant grin, wide and open, and she willed some of the tension out of her shoulders. “That sounds fantastic.”

  “How about you?” She waved her hand in a wide circle. “This is nice.” He grinned wider again, waiting, and she couldn’t help but return the smile. “Do you…are you…”

  He shook his head. “Just me.”

  Laney pinched her lips together to restrain another smile from bursting forth. That news shouldn’t warm her heart. At all. And it definitely shouldn’t make her want to jump up and do a happy dance. Or a lap dance. She gave herself a mental slap. That was not at all where her mind should be going.

  The single tear in the kitchen had just about killed him. He was glad the conversation had continued, and now that they were talking, he wasn’t in a hurry to get into anything heavy. “I’m glad you came over.”

  She took a deep breath. “Me too.”

  “Do you want to talk? Or just sit? I’m good with either.”

  “I don’t know. Is it okay if we just sit for a while?”

  “Of course.”

  He watched her relax into the couch, the wood stove providing the only soundtrack with an occasional pop and hiss.

  “So.” She swallowed hard. “Tell me about work. Where are you teaching now?”

  The question surprised him. He was expecting to be asked more about the photo, dreading having to explain Crystal. Clearly she wanted to start on safer ground, and he should have known that she would. Laney never sought out drama.

  “Wardham Elementary. I transferred seven years ago, and haven’t looked back.”

  “You don’t miss the city?”

  Kyle shook his head. “I liked the learning experiences I gained teaching in a large urban school, but I missed the tight-knit community. And I wanted to be closer to my family.”

  “Tell me about your class.”

  “They’re awesome. I’ve got a grade 5/6 split this year, and I really like that age. Inquisitive, able to do big projects, but not too hormone crazy just yet. I also teach science to the grade 4s, and they’re fun too.”

  “Have you always taught the middle grades? You started with a grade 4 class, right?”

  Kyle was touched that she remembered. “With one disastrous exception, yes, I’ve always taught 4/5/6. The first year I taught here in Wardham, the only class that was available for me was grade 1. We all survived, but I was greatly relieved when Mrs. Schroeder retired the following year and I got her class.”

  “Oh my god, Mrs. Schroeder. She taught me grade 5.”

  “Me too,” Kyle said, stretching his feet out toward the ottoman between them.

  “I don’t really remember you in elementary school.”

  “I remember you.”

  They both fell silent. Kyle knew she was thinking about her first year of high school. It was a story he both loved and hated. That’s when she had first noticed him, hanging out with her sister and a bunch of other older students. Evie and Laney had always been close, and when a couple of other girls bristled at the nerdy grade nine student being invited to share lunch with the group, Kyle had smoothed it over with an easy smile, and asked her to sit next to him. He meant it as a protective gesture, but her crush was born that day, and persisted until her final year of university when she finally threw herself at him. He honestly had never realized how she felt, but at the first press of her body against his, he knew that ignorance must have been a self-defense mechanism because he was lost forever in a sea of Laney.

  “You’re right, it’s been a long time.” She stood up. “Is there more coffee?”

  Kyle nodded and followed her into the kitchen. He couldn’t help himself, he wanted to be close to her. He leaned his hip against the counter, watching her pour herself a cup. She added milk, but skipped the sugar. He raised an eyebrow, and she smiled.

  “People change,” she said.

  “In some ways. You haven’t changed that much in other ways.”

  “Neither have you.”

  They stood there, staring at each other, and Kyle wanted to take the mug out of her hands and ease her against the counter. Press into her and show her that most of all, his attraction to her had never changed, that her mouth still drove him to distraction, her mind still made him crazy and her body still brought him to his knees. A hiss of air dragged him out of his fantasy. He cleared his throat and shifted back, painfully aware that his state of arousal was on full display, and Laney had noticed. Her eyes were wide with a mix of desire and fear, and he needed to back off, as much as he wanted to do the complete opposite. “Let’s sit down again. I…there’s somethi
ng that I need to say to you, that’s long overdue.”

  Laney followed Kyle to the sitting area, confused by the moment they had just shared in the kitchen. If he hadn’t moved away from her, she probably would have launched herself onto his body and rubbed up against him like a cat in heat. She hadn’t felt this overwhelmed by lust since they were together in college. She thought she had outgrown such feelings, but apparently not. She pressed her thighs together as she curled up on the couch again. She ached from hip to hip, inflamed with desire and dying for Kyle to touch her.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  She didn’t know what she was expecting Kyle to say, but that wasn’t it. An odd tightness pulled across her chest, her shoulders curling up and in like she was a hedgehog under attack. She breathed out, a quiet rush of air over her bottom lip reminding her she was staring, mouth open. She blinked, searching for something, anything to say. Nothing came to mind.

  “Laney…dammit, stop looking at me like that. I don’t want to hurt you, I want to free you. Free myself, if I’m being honest. Please just listen to me.”

  She nodded, not sure she’d heard everything over the pounding in her ears, but as much as it hurt, she also wanted to have that final conversation they’d never had.

  “…and I think that’s why it took me so long to get over you, because I was wallowing in pain. I thought you’d broken up with me. I was convinced you’d come back someday, and when you moved to Calgary, I knew it was finally over.”

  She was on her feet, shaking from head to toe, before she realized rage had taken over. “Excuse me? What the fuck kind of apology is this, Kyle?” Laney swiped at hot tears now freely sliding down her cheeks.

  She stalked toward him, counting on her fingers the points he had missed. “First, you broke up with me. You broke my heart, asshole. I asked you to wait for me and you said it was too much. Second, I tried to talk to you, you wouldn’t come to the phone or answer my emails. Third—”