CAN'T MISS CHRISTMAS_A NOVELLA
Page 7
Suddenly, the redheaded woman hesitated. Looked hard into Santa’s eyes and frowned. “You from here?”
The young Santa blushed under his fake beard. “You’re mistaken, lady. I’m just passing through town.”
The loud idle of a motor, a blast of exhaust, and the squeak of brakes sounded from outside the bar, turning everyone’s attention to the door.
Someone wiped a circle in one of the foggy windows. “There’s a Greyhound sitting out there.”
“There’s a dog in the snow?” a dark-haired woman with Italian features said, standing up. “Let’s bring him in!”
“I think they mean a Greyhound bus, Bella,” a darkly handsome man said next to her, tugging her down.
“Those damn tourists,” Scott said, coming around the bar. “I’ll tell them to head to one of the bars on Main Street.”
Before Grace could take a gulp of her drink or Scott could reach the door, it opened. And in the doorway, taking up a good portion of it with his wide shoulders, was Graham.
* * *
Graham. At the sight of his face, so familiar, so dear, Grace’s breath caught. Her heart felt as full and heavy as a basketball trapped in her chest. Graham slid into the now-empty chair next to her. “Did the bus break down?” she asked, mentally smacking herself for not saying something, anything, better than small talk. Fear seemed to freeze her tongue. Actually, she was terrified. Not to mention shaking all over.
He reached over and took a sip of her drink. “Nope. I’m back because I paid the driver a hundred bucks.” He smiled. “And promised everyone a free drink.” Sure enough, a gaggle of people were piling from the bus into the bar.
A middle-aged man passed by, playfully slapping Graham on the back on his way to the counter. “Thanks a lot, buddy.”
“No problem, Ed,” Graham said. He turned to Grace. “I’m here because of you.”
She looked up at him. “Because of me?” she whispered. Oh, one look in his warm brown eyes and she lost it. Relief and panic coursed through her. He’d come back for her? Despite the fact that she’d rejected him and hadn’t even had the courage to tell him how she really felt?
How could someone love her like that?
He placed his big hand over hers where she’d rested it on top of the mahogany bar. “Yeah,” he said. “Because I can’t live without you. Because I regret what happened to us every second of my life. Because I love you, and I believe we can begin again.”
“I ran after you, but by the time I got to the lobby, you were gone.” She stood up and ran her hand down his cheek, feeling the soft and scratchy textures of his skin. Like life, maybe. The better and the worse. Now it was time for the truth. He’d done everything for her, even stopped the bus and come back. She owed it to him to be honest.
“You’re the love of my life, Graham. I’ve never stopped needing you. I did a terrible job telling you that. I tried to steel myself against feeling things, like I was protecting myself from more hurt. And I never told you how much I loved you, but Graham, I never stopped.”
Their lips met, soft and warm and wonderful, under the festive lights. Grace slid her hands around his neck and kissed him like she’d never kissed him before. Kisses of passion and, more importantly, of promise, that they would stick together no matter what life threw at them next. He tasted like apple cider ale and forever, a pretty amazing combination.
“Last call for Philly,” the bus driver yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Hey, buddy, you on the bus or no?”
“You can’t miss Christmas,” Grace whispered. “Your brother.”
“Christmas is wherever you are, Grace,” Graham said. “And I wouldn’t miss that for the world.” He gathered her hands in his. She felt his warmth spread all through her. “We can both get on the early bus tomorrow. Come home with me. We’ll spend Christmas together. And every day after that.”
“I’d love to go home with you,” she said. “I’ve missed your family.”
“They’ve missed you too. My mother will be thrilled. She hasn’t been the same since we split up.”
She stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. “Then let’s never split up again.”
“I don’t ever want to spend another night apart from you. Even if it involves neuro checks every two hours with blinding lights.” And he kissed her, long and sweet and slow.
* * *
They spent the next few hours caroling and eating and drinking. Everyone was so well-intentioned and friendly that it was difficult to extricate themselves from the great company. It was near midnight when Graham gathered their coats and they finally made their way to the door.
“Are you sorry we stayed so late?” Grace asked Graham.
If it had been up to him, he would’ve left hours ago. “Well, I’ve wanted to be alone with you since the second I walked in, but it’s been great to get to know everyone.”
“I think we’ve made friends for life,” she said.
“Maybe we should come back when the car’s done and check this place out some more.”
“You can’t leave yet,” Scott said.
Okay, these small-town people were great, but this was getting a little ridiculous. Because he wanted to get out of here and make love to his wife.
Something bumped Graham’s elbow. It was Santa, who still hadn’t taken off his suit or hat. The guy had to be baking under all those layers.
“We have a tradition in this bar at midnight,” Scott said.
“Scotty, you are such a bullshitter,” Drew Spikonos said. “He’s got a tradition every night at midnight. It helps him sell drinks.”
“Shut up, Spikonos,” Scott said. “Everyone needs someone to kiss to bring Christmas in.”
“What about you?” Drew asked.
“Are you volunteering?” Scott asked, and Drew made a face.
Graham wrapped his arm around Grace’s waist. “I’ve got my someone,” he said as she smiled and leaned closer to him. At least if they had to stay, he’d get a few kisses in.
“Okay, Santa old boy, pucker up!” Tiffany said, being a good sport about kissing the odd Santa. “But don’t get gropey, you hear?”
The old-fashioned cuckoo clock above the bar struck midnight. Snow fell heavily outside the fogged windows. And everywhere, couples young and old kissed. Graham gathered Grace in his arms and placed his lips close to her ear. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered. Then he kissed her, smooth and slow, enjoying the feel of her soft lips on his, and the way she fit perfectly in his arms. Where she belonged. He took his time because he wanted to get it right. He wanted it to be a Christmas kiss that was the most tender, wonderful, forgiving, and promising kiss she’d ever had. One for the ages.
Next to them, Santa seemed to really plant one on the young woman who ran the shelter. Afterward, she was breathing a little hard. She reached up and pulled off his once-again dangling white brow in one quick movement.
“You’re not old. You’re young.” She looked from the caterpillar-like brow in her palm to Santa’s face. “Do I—know you?”
“Looks like Santa’s looking for a happy ending too,” Graham said.
“Or at least a beginning,” Grace said.
“Merry Christmas, everybody,” Scott said as folks held up their drinks. “Good health, good cheer, and good friends to get you through.”
“Merry Christmas,” Graham called. “Hey!” he said to Grace, grinning widely. “Wonder if we won the lottery?” He held up the ticket from his pocket.
She slid it out of his hands, tore it in two, and let it fall to the floor. “We won the lottery, big guy. In every way that counts.” Then she kissed him again, and he had to agree that yes, he’d won the jackpot, all right. And he had a feeling that this was about to be the best Christmas ever.
Thank You
Thank you, dear readers, for reading this Christmas story that takes place in my Mirror Lake world. I always hope my books make you laugh and maybe cry a little, too (in a good way). If you enjoyed it, pl
ease consider leaving a brief review on the book’s Amazon page, which is here. Reviews are so important to authors and are very much appreciated. Thank you for spending your valuable time with me and my characters!
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Acknowledgments
I had a dilemma in writing this novella: how could I do a novella for anyone who loves holiday romance but also incorporate elements of my beloved Mirror Lake…especially when one last Spikonos brother has yet to show up on the scene?
But wait! Maybe he already has! And there is where I will leave you until Jared Spikonos’s book comes to life.
In the meantime, my editor Charlotte Herscher deserves all my thanks for once again thinking of my characters as real people with real problems. I always tell her I think she should’ve been a psychologist instead of an editor…but I am so glad she is what she is. She helped me to show the angst of a divorced couple who had endured a lot together and not drown out the hopeful holiday spirit of the story.
Many thanks to AE Jones, my dear friend and fellow author, who guided me once again through the maze of self publishing by telling me important things like, This is what you need to do NOW. I could not have navigated this path without you.
Thanks also to my dear friend Sandra Owens, who read the story and gave me honest feedback. Thanks for sharing all the ups and downs of this crazy job with me!
Thanks to my husband, Ed. I love you and your tireless support. And your plethora of funny lines that somehow make their way into my heroes’ mouths.
Lastly, thank you, dear readers, for reading my books and for coming to chat and visit with me online. How lucky we are to live in an age where communication is so easy and we can be connected by the hopefulness of the most important thing of all—love.
About the Author
Miranda Liasson loves to write stories about everyday people who find love despite themselves, because there’s nothing like a great love story. And if there are a few laughs along the way, even better! She’s a Romance Writers of America Golden Heart winner and an Amazon bestselling author whose heartwarming and humorous small–town romances have won accolades such as the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence and have been Harlequin Junkie and Night Owl Reviews Top Picks.
She lives in the Midwest with her husband and three kids in a charming old neighborhood which is the inspiration for many of the homes in her books.
Miranda loves to hear from readers! Find her at mirandaliasson.com, Facebook, or on Twitter @mirandaliasson. For information about new releases and other news, feel free to sign up for her newsletter.
Also by Miranda Liasson
THE KINGSTON FAMILY
Heart and Sole
A Man of Honor
The Baby Project
THE MIRROR LAKE NOVELS (The Rushford Family)
This Thing Called Love
This Love of Mine
This Loving Feeling (Also the first Spikonos Brother novel)
MORE MIRROR LAKE NOVELS: THE SPIKONOS BROTHERS
Can’t Stop Loving You
Can’t Fight This Feeling