A Christmas Affair: A Seaside Cove Romance (Seaside Cove Romance Series Book 1)

by Davies, Cora

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  Molly felt as though she was on autopilot for the next week. She apologized to Rachel for their argument and the friends made up. As each day passed though, she felt more distant from Mrs. Claus and the Dickens Village. She forced herself to put on a happy face each day to talk to her holiday shoppers. No matter how much she pushed thoughts of Jack away though, he was all that was on her mind.

  He was moving. Moving!

  How could she not have known? More importantly, how could he have touched her like that knowing that he would be gone soon? It felt like punishment. Molly's punishment for her doubt in him all those years ago. How was she supposed to know it had been Chad, not Jack, to attack Izzie? Izzie lied to her, and she was so convincing. Jack had been following Izzie around in the weeks before the attack, but he never told Molly why!

  I'm not a mind reader!

  Jack had not even been interested in letting her explain about the Jeremy situation. Instead, he decided to ignore her. Was he really that stubborn? Or was it just more punishment, more mind games, because he was angry about something that happened ten years ago? Was the connection she felt to him faked on his half?

  Thursday night after her shop closed for the evening, Molly pulled the new Mrs. Claus costume out of the box and tried it on. Not sexy, not flattering in the least. But better than Mrs. Boughman's costume. And left more to the imagination than the costume Bridget had picked out. Molly stood in front of the full length mirror in her apartment and attempted to ignore the feeling of dread creeping up on her. Tomorrow she would spend with Jack as he made pleasant Santa type talk, but ignored her otherwise.

  "The hell with this." Molly pulled the costume off and climbed back into her jeans and sweatshirt. He's going to listen to me. Minutes later Molly pushed open the door to Jack's bar.

  Jack was behind the counter, the only other people in the room were three older men who sat at a table by the television drinking beer and eating popcorn. When she walked into the bar all the men turned to look at Molly. While the table of older men went immediately back to their conversation and the game on TV, Jack had not looked away.

  But as much as Jack had been on her mind, his green eyes weren't the first thing Molly noticed. She took in the entirety of the room. It must have cost Jack a small fortune to make the bar look this nice, this authentic. She was pleasantly surprised that there was no smoke in the bar. But most of all, she was intrigued by the music playing.

  "Christmas music?" She turned and asked Jack.

  "It's the country station," Jack said setting a glass of beer down on the counter.

  "Christmas country music," Molly said feeling the corners of her mouth turn up as Jack pursed his own lips. "It looks really nice in here."

  "Thanks. You never been in here?" Jack said, but somehow, she knew he had the answer to that question.

  "No." Molly walked up to the counter and rested her palms on the smooth warm wood. "I need to talk to you."

  "I don't have time to talk right now. I'm busy." Jack turned away from her and filled a pitcher of beer. Molly looked around the bar.

  "You have three patrons."

  "Three or three hundred, I don't have time to talk." Jack walked towards the men and set the pitcher down. As he walked back with an empty pitcher Molly stepped in his way. "Move."

  "No, we've got stuff to talk about, and you can either listen to me over there," Molly pointed back to the counter. "Or, I can stand here and say it loud enough so you can hear anywhere in the bar."

  One of the older men whistled quietly. "You better not make your lady mad Jack."

  "She's not mine," Jack said glaring at Molly. "Fine, over here. But I got nothing to say."

  Molly followed Jack to the bar and sat across from the register. "Fine, I got enough to say for the both of us. You just listen."

  Jack sighed and leaned against the back counter, arms folded across his chest. Molly noticed that even when he was mad at her, the piercing glare from his eyes made her want to melt into the floor. Or more preferably, into his bed.

  "First, I want to talk about Jeremy, then about Izzie." Molly hoped he would stand and listen to everything she had to say.

  "Basically, you want to torture me?" Jack sounded serious, so serious it would have made Molly laugh if the conversation she was about to have with him was not so depressing.

  "Jeremy's mom is dying." Molly watched as Jack's body posture melted-ever so slightly. So Jack Frost does have a bit of compassion in there somewhere? "Rapidly. She's been fighting this disease since Jeremy and I started dating, and she's losing the battle. Her specialist gave her a month."

  Molly paused and waited for Jack to say something. He was silent, a strange stillness over his body. "She is a really sweet woman; I think you'd like her. She's nothing like..." Molly's voice cracked and she watched as Jack flinched, as if he stopped himself from moving towards her. "I broke up with Jeremy the day after he came home. The day after you and I almost... the day after we dug the cord out of the storeroom closet. He begged me to not tell anyone, just to publicly date him until after the holidays. For his mom. So that is why it's complicated, I can't tell anyone, because of how fast rumors run in this town. But, you won't tell anyone will you?"

  "No, I won't," Jack said, and Molly thought he looked like he wanted to say more. She waited another moment, but he did not say anything.

  "Okay, thank you." Molly licked her lips. Her mouth felt dry, like sandpaper now. "Can I have a beer?"

  "What kind?" Jack asked.

  "I hear you have a Christmas blend that is pretty popular." Molly smiled and hoped that Jack would counter with a smile of his own. But he did not.

  Jack turned and filled a glass from a tap. Molly was not much of a beer drinker, she preferred a glass of red, but she did not see any bottles of wine on the wall rack. But, she needed a little bit of liquid courage to say what she needed to say next. Jack set the full glass in front of her and Molly brought it to her lips and took a tiny sip.

  "That is actually not bad for beer," she said, and she swore she saw the corners of his mouth twitch.

  "Thanks," he said dryly, but a flicker of laughter in his eye betrayed him. Molly tilted her head back and gulped down half the glass. "Thirsty?"

  "Just a little. How much?" Molly pulled her wallet out of her purse, but Jack shook his head.

  "First glass is free; that's how I get everyone hooked."

  Molly smiled. He was joking. Maybe she could get through this. "I have to talk to you about Izzie."

  Jack's posture straightened and she saw a darkness clamp down over his eyes. "I'm not talking to you about Izzie."

  "Then you'll listen," Molly said with more strength in her voice than she actually felt. "We decided you were just listening anyway, remember?"

  "I've worked a long time to put that all behind me, but when I see you Molly…" Jack looked out the front window and Molly noticed it was snowing again. "Especially when I think about kissing you, all those memories stir up. It hurt so much to lose you the first time, I don't want to go through it again. I'll never forget the look on your face in the months that followed prom. I'll never forget what I did."

  "I'm so sorry," Molly felt tears welling up. How many times would she cry over Jack? "I've been so sorry for years."

  "What do you have to be sorry about?" Jack's voice lowered to a growl. "I'm the one who attacked Izzie."

  Molly almost fell off her chair. "What Jack? No you didn't."

  "I did, Molly, I remembered so many things from that night over the years, Izzie on the ground crying. Her torn dress, the hatred in your eyes." Jack was walking away from Molly, to the empty side of the counter. His hands ran through his hair and Molly felt an urge to run to him. She gave in to that instinct and ran around the opening in the bar to grab him by the shoulders. Jack turned around.

  "Jack, Izzie lied.” How did he not know this? She was there was Izzie made the call. She stood there until Izzie told Jack everything. “She made it all
up. You found her crying, you tried to tuck her strap into the back of her dress. Chad attacked her, and then he attacked you. You drank so much that night, you must have blacked out, lost control of the memories," Molly could feel her words blending together as she sped through them, but she did not want him to walk away.

  He had to know the truth. How could Jack be carrying this around with him when she known for years what happened? "You aren't mad at me for believing you could do that to someone? You're mad at yourself for something that didn't even happen?"

  Jack pushed Molly away from him. "What are you playing at?"

  "I'm serious Jack, she told me, junior year of college. She told me everything. You had been following her and Chad around because you found out he was abusing her. Chad almost had me convinced you guys had a thing going on behind our backs."

  Molly reached for Jack again but he backed up. "Then that night you were so drunk and he beat the crap out of you. You couldn't remember. You always said you couldn't remember. You blacked out. She was afraid of Chad. That's why she went along with Chad’s story that it was you that attacked her."

  Jack leaned in close and Molly thought for a moment he might kiss her. But instead she felt the heat of his anger flowing from him. "You've known, all these years? You've known and you never told me? You let me carry this guilt around?"

  "No." Molly noticed the tears had stopped flowing down her cheeks now. "The minute she told me, I made her call you. She called you and told you Jack. It was late, the middle of the night, but I made her call you that second. I stood there while she called you, while she told you what happened.”

  “She called me?” Jack said squinting at Molly. She thought it was as if he was looking through her. Trying to look back in time. But he was not seeing the big picture. He was putting up road blocks that did not need to be there.

  “See? You don't have to feel guilty anymore. We don't have to be apart, there’s no reason." Molly stood and waited for Jack to take her in his arms, to tell her everything was alright now. He was not mad at her; he had never been mad at her. She couldn't believe it. He had been mad at himself. And now that she took away the reason, they could be together. She was not ready for what he said next.

  "Leave. Right now."

  "Jack please listen to me," Molly pleaded, but Jack grabbed her by both arms and pushed her out from behind the counter and towards the door. Even in his anger though, his touch was gentle and Molly could have escaped his grasp easily if she tried. He stopped at the door and walked back to the counter, grabbing Molly's purse and threw it at her feet. "Jack, please just tell me what-"

  "I'm not going to tell you again," Jack said turning away from her. "Go. I need to think, and I can't do that with you here."

  Molly nodded and stepped out into the cold night.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jack stood against the back counter. His mind was spinning with what Molly had told him about Izzie. He remembered her call, it must have been seven or eight years ago. She called him in the middle of the night, and when he answered and heard Izzie's drunk voice on the other side of the phone, he had hung up.

  Izzie called to tell him the truth, and he hung up the phone. He spent the last ten years punishing himself for nothing. Keeping women at an arm's distance. Only ever having one night stands. Never a relationship. Because he hated the man he thought he was. He hated what he thought he was capable of. Another realization hit him. He had never been in love with anyone but Molly. If Izzie had not happened, would he still be with Molly?

  Molly thought I was mad at her because she believed what Izzie said all those years ago? Jack had believed Izzie, too. How could he be angry at Molly for believing the same thing? The front door opened jarring him back into the present.

  Rachel. Her smart mouth was the last thing he needed to hear right now.

  "I need to talk to you," she announced loudly walking to the counter.

  "Jack, how many woman troubles do you have?" one of the men asked and the others laughed. Jack forced a smile.

  "I'm not in the mood Rachel," Jack said.

  "What did you do to Molly?" she asked.

  "What I did to Molly?" he asked, taken aback. It was more like what did Molly do to him? Coming in here tonight and turning his whole world, everything he knew, upside down.

  "Yeah, she has been moping around ever since you guys started doing Santa's workshop together. She has completely lost her Christmas spirit. I mean, I was glad when she toned it down, but now it is just completely out. So what did you do to her?" Rachel asked again, arms folded over her chest.

  "I think you're asking the wrong guy," he said. "Now do you want to order? Because seats are for paying customers only."

  “Since when?” She snapped.

  “Maybe Molly just grew up and realized Christmas wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Jack said, clenching his fists at his side. No one in this town ever let him be alone to think.

  "I knew it you... you... Jack Frost, bah-humbug asshole," Rachel stood up. "Your shitty attitude rubbed off on her. What did you do, lay her a load of your Christmas commercialism complaints? Did she watch you tell one too many children off for asking Santa for a doll instead of a job?"

  “Why does everyone think I hate Christmas so much?” Jack asked.

  "All I know, is after she broke it off with Jeremy, all she could do was talk about you," Rachel said. "Next thing I know she came home from the first workshop in tears because you got halfway down her pants, and then you turned her away. And now, she's back with Jeremy?"

  "Maybe they are meant to be," Jack said. Fake or not, it still broke something inside of him to think of them together. "Just leave them alone Rachel."

  "Leave them alone? I want to kill that asshole." Rachel shook her head and stopped talking.

  "Join the club," Jack muttered.

  "So you know? You know what he did to her, and you are just going to stand by and not do anything?" Rachel fumed.

  Jack pointed at his hand. The wound almost heeled. "I showed him how I felt."

  Rachel smiled, the first real smile Jack had seen from the woman that evening, but it was gone as fast as it appeared. "I heard you punched him, but I didn't know why. I hoped it was because he attacked her. But I also hoped she wouldn't end up back with him, and look what hope got me."

  "What the hell do you mean he attacked her?" Jack asked, feeling his voice rising as much as he tried to control it. His fist throbbed with anticipation as he thought of connecting it to Jeremy's face more than twice this time.

  "The day he came back. You don't know about this? Then why did you hit him?" Rachel said drumming her fingers on the counter.

  "I didn't like what he was saying." Jack squeezed the mug he was cleaning in his hand so tight he was afraid it might break. But he could not put it down. "Rachel. Did Jeremy hit her?"

  "You seem to care a lot about what happened to her for someone who doesn't want to be with her." Rachel stood eye to eye with Jack, and for the first time he noticed the woman was almost as tall as he was.

  The room was silent except for the football game on TV. Jack felt the temple in his head pulsing. "Rachel, tell me right now."

  "I knew you liked her. I don't know what big macho thing is keeping you from just sweeping her off her feet-"

  "Rachel!" He said her name so loud that the men at the other end of the room sat up and turned around briefly, before going back to watching the game.

  Rachel sighed. "She should be the one telling you. I was with her half the evening afterward. He terrified her." Rachel leaned forward and lowered her voice. "The minute he showed up he kept trying to drag her upstairs like a Neanderthal, but she told him she couldn't just shut the shop down, especially while she had customers. He practically kicked the shoppers out, and then tried to force himself on her there on the shop floor. She actually broke two of his toes to get him to leave her alone."

  Jack sank back into the barstool as the room began to sink into a deep red.
"I left her there alone with Jeremy."

  "Don't start doing that weird man stuff. He's her boyfriend and you barely know Molly anymore. How were you supposed to know how big of a bastard he is?" Rachel said, and then she actually reached out and touched Jack’s hand, surprising both of them. "She doesn't belong with him Jack, but for some reason she isn't letting go. And I never trusted him before, but now…"

  Rachel's cell phone rang, and as she answered it Jack helped his patrons settle up their bills while the football game ended. Jack was grateful for the distraction, but had a hard time making change with visions of pummeling Jeremy on his mind. Rachel hung up the phone just as they left.

  "That was Brian. You know that McGinley guy? They think he is responsible for a home invasion out on 44th," Rachel said, her voice a little shaky.

  "Was anyone hurt?" Jack scanned his brain to remember if he knew anyone out on 44th. Rachel shook her head.

  "They were gone when it happened, but Brian thinks this guy is still around here. Too much of a coincidence. He wants me to go home and lock myself away," Rachel said rolling her eyes.

  "Do you want me to take you?" Jack asked. Thoughts of Jeremy and Molly swam in his vision, but he needed to talk to Molly first before doing anything drastic. Drastic like killing Jeremy and dumping his body in the ocean.

  "No, you don't need to be my hero Jack," Rachel said over her shoulder as she left the bar.

  Jack stood in the empty room for a moment. Time to think. No. He did not need to think. He needed to make a phone call.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Molly wrapped the white silk robe around her frame and ran down the stairs. She had tossed and turned for what felt like hours in her bed and finally fell asleep when the noise started. There was a pounding at the front door, and it made her own heart thud in her chest. She held her cell phone in one hand and a baseball bat in the other as she rounded the bottom of the steps.

  "Who would be here at this time-" she stopped in her tracks as she pushed through the storeroom door and saw the figure in the front window. Jack.