Except hiding beneath the red shirt she plucked from her dresser was the gray one she’d stuffed back in here on Christmas Eve, the one she’d worn home from the hospital after Parker was born. She lifted it from the drawer once more, remembering its soft feel on her skin and the way it hung past her waist, baggy enough to be comfortable.
The sight was almost dizzying in an extremely irrational way. “It’s a shirt,” Saylor chided herself through the painful tightness in her throat. History dredged itself up, but she shoved it down, inhaling against the spots flashing in her vision. Ridiculous, that a slip of fabric could have this effect on her after so long.
“I’ve got to stop this.”
Wadding the shirt into her fist, she marched to the cardboard box by the front door, which was overflowing with baby clothes piled on top of some of Parker’s old toys and other books she hadn’t read in years and didn’t plan to read again.
She hesitated. It was strange. She missed those stages with Parker too, seeing him crawl all over the house and chew on his tiny fists. Why wasn’t it harder to get rid of those little insignias of that time in her life? The box was full—it was ready to go out to her trunk, to be dropped off at the thrift store. She should let the shirt go, add it to the stack. But her fist wouldn’t open.
“Ready, Mom!” Parker bounded out of the hallway in t-shirt, jeans, and Captain America socks. Saylor smiled at him, her thoughts still whirling.
“Just one more minute,” she told him, hurrying back to her room. With a brick in her chest, she returned the shirt to its drawer, slammed the drawer shut, and helped him find his boots.
They located one under his bed. After fifteen minutes of looking for Parker’s other boot, she found it behind the dryer. Saylor was starting to think she should charge this kid a finder’s fee.
“You got it?” he said.
“I’ve got it. Come on. You can put it on in the car.”
Saylor carried him outside, juggling him on one hip long enough to lock the front door of their house behind her. They shuffled down the snowy path to their white car. She opened the back door for Parks and handed him his other boot after helping him buckle in.
Saylor settled herself into the driver’s seat. The car gulped a few times, struggling, too cold to want to start.
“Come on,” Saylor said under her breath as it churned, the engine noises whirring. “You can do this.”
“Is it dead, Mommy?”
“No, bud. Just cold.”
Finally, the car started, and they passed through town, turning on Blue Lakes Boulevard. Stores and restaurants lined either side, the street crammed with traffic. Fred Myer caught her eye, and after a frantic glance at the clock, she pulled into the parking lot.
“What are we doing here? I thought we were going to Gramma’s.”
“We are. I just need to grab something.” She couldn’t go to a New Years’ party empty-handed. Especially not when she was practically dating the boss.
Saylor helped Parker out, and they hurried into the sliding entrance door. Festive music still played on the overhead speakers. Parker stopped her every ten seconds, pointing out boxes of cookies, a small stand of Spider-Man sunglasses, even some apples.
“Look, Mom,” Parker rushed over to the row of shopping carts stocked with discounted Christmas items. “On sale! On sale!”
Sure enough, 50% and 75% off signs labeled each of the carts filled with Santa hats, boxes of Christmas lights, nutcrackers, and even furry, red- and green-striped socks. She rifled through, partly out of curiosity and partly to humor him.
“Look, candy. Oh.” His face fell when he realized the thin box didn’t hold candy but a cluster of mistletoe. He nearly chucked it back when she nabbed it from him.
“Let me see,” she said.
Her whole body tingled at the sight of the small plant with red berries, remembering Cole’s sweet story and his soft, cinnamon lips as they pressed against hers. Parker was still rummaging through, so she slipped a few packages into the cart.
“You’re getting some?”
“You never know when mistletoe will come in handy,” she said, eager for tonight. Not for the party, necessarily. But for the alone time she was hoping would come after the party. Kissing Cole was all she’d been able to think about since it happened.
She found a marked-down poinsettia, and they hurried through the self-checkout and back to the car. Fortunately, it started after the third or fourth rotation. Saylor knew she needed to take this thing in to get it checked, but the thought only sank into her stomach like a cinder. Another thing she couldn’t afford right now.
They turned off toward Hayward Lane and pulled into her parents’ driveway. Their home was elegant, with a white, fenced porch and two levels of beautiful brick. It was what their move here to Twin shortly after Saylor’s was all about, after all. Her dad’s new job had been a huge increase in his pay.
She left the car idling, not daring to shut it off again. Another car lingered near the sidewalk, a car Saylor didn’t recognize. The county marking on the plates gave her pause, but she let it slide and stepped through the front door.
The smell of apples and warmth seared through her. A beautiful rug lined the tiled floor, while a large painting of their family from several years ago, before the incident, hung directly before her. Before her life had had its first big turn.
“Mom?”
“In here,” she called back.
Parker kicked off his boots and scurried in. His excited, “Grandpa! Grandpa!” filled the air, followed by her dad’s laughter and merry groan from scooping Parker into a hug.
The kitchen window displayed their snowy yard. The room opened from there to a dining area where Saylor’s brother, Greg, sat at the dining table, clasping a mug and staring down at the liquid in it.
She stopped in her tracks.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. He’d gained more weight, and a long beard made his chin look like one of those aluminum scrubbies meant to take rust off of metal.
“Saylor,” Greg said, rising.
“Don’t bother,” she told him. She stepped through into the room and took Parker’s arm. This ruined her night. She didn’t have time to find another sitter, but she wasn’t about to leave her boy here with him.
“Mom,” Parker complained, wringing out of her grip.
“Get your coat back on,” she told him.
“Now wait a minute.” Her dad rose from his crouch in front of the fireplace. Saylor leveled a glare at him and guided Parks back to the door.
“I know you blame me for what happened,” Greg said in her wake, scuffling behind to keep up. “But I swear, he would have joined the military anyway.”
She shook her head. “You don’t get it. Even now.”
The pain sang through her. She had a hard time letting go of things—she meant what she’d told Cole. She held on and couldn’t relinquish. Greg was right there that night, the night it had all happened.
“Come on back inside,” her dad said, leading Parker in. She didn’t have it in her to fight him, so she lingered on the front porch and stared up at the stars. Frigid air struck her at once, like it knew she was emotionally unarmed. She inhaled the cold chill, taking in the footprints that disturbed the glistening snow. A puff of air escaped every time she breathed. She held her eyes open, letting the cold singe out her angry tears.
“Saylor.” Her mom stepped out, closing the door behind her and standing on the step in her sweater and socks. She folded her arms across her chest in an attempt to keep warm. Her gaze was imploring. “Don’t be ridiculous. We wouldn’t let anything happen to Parker.”
Saylor blinked away more tears. “You knew he would be here.”
“I did. I invited him home. I was hoping you two could patch things up, and so is Greg.”
“Mom—he was there. He invited me to that party. He’s the one who introduced me to Caleb in the first place. It was Greg’s freaking drugs I tried to use after it...a
fter it happened.”
Mom swallowed. “I know, sweetie. I know. It’s been hard on all of us. But you’ve made leaps and bounds of progress since then. You’re a different person than you were. It’s time to let it go.”
Saylor pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, stemming the burning at her eyes. Let it go. Her mom said that like it was easy.
“Greg won’t be doing drugs here,” her mother assured. “He’s clean now, Saylor, but just in case, I’ll make sure he’s not alone with the little guy. Just let him stay. He’s his uncle. He should meet him.”
Let it go. Saylor heard her therapist in her head, telling her the same thing. She’d heard it so many times it was stale.
“Despite it all, Greg is a good person, Saylor. He loves you.”
The words stung harder. She loved her brother, too, that was the problem. She was disappointed in what he’d become. She was disappointed he hadn’t been able to move on.
But wasn’t she doing the same thing now?
Let it go. Move on.
“Go on and have fun. I want to hear all about this contractor of yours when your date is over.” Her smile had its usual effect, soothing clear through Saylor. She was right—what did Saylor think was going to happen while they were all together here?
Throat tight, she nodded. Parker would be okay.
“Okay. Thanks, Mom.”
COLE’S OFFICE BUILDING lay just off of Pole Line, an immaculate, three story, brown-plated structure. Its exterior was sleek, modern, and reflected the snow falling softly as Saylor pulled into an open parking spot.
Canyon Ridge View, a title near the door read. She checked her lipstick and hair in the rearview mirror before stepping out to make a fresh footprint in the new layer of snow in the lot.
Rock salt scattered across the shiny sidewalk, a sure sign it’d been icy not too long ago. Thankfully, she made it to the door without slipping.
Music trilled overhead. A large potted plant claimed the corner of the classy entryway, and a desk offset a mirror that revealed part of Saylor’s blonde hair sticking up on one side. She hurried to correct it, smiling at the man and woman passing behind her.
A rush of cold air displaced the building’s heat as another couple entered. She beat past it to the next set of double doors, eager to find Cole.
People stood holding drinks and plates, laughing, talking, collecting in various corners of the large open area. The other floors were visible above, with people gathered along the balconies in similar fashion.
She scanned for a sign of Cole’s handsome face, his dark hair, and it was as though her heart saw him first. It tapped a jitter-twitch rhythm as her eyes caught up and captured him beside the black grand piano with its half-open lid. He wore a black dress shirt and slacks combo, topped off with a red and gold-striped tie. The stylish look and his casual stance accentuated his form, the line of his shoulders and slim hips. Her mouth went dry.
“You made it,” he said, giving her a flashing smile, weakening her all the more.
“You look amazing,” she told him, taking the red cup he offered. She could hardly peel her gaze away.
“You’re looking good yourself.”
In that moment, the room was nothing more than a comfortable coffee shop, a small space with no one else but Cole beside her, drinking her in with those soul-catching eyes.
“This building is beautiful,” she continued, taking a sip of the cider he offered.
“Finished it last year. I remember because we finished right before it snowed.”
“Is it hard to build in the snow?”
“Just colder,” he said with a shrug. “And wetter.”
“Too bad you can’t take the season off.” She kept her attention on the large, reflective windows on the building’s east side. The windows shot their images back, reminding Saylor of the bird that had hit Shelley’s window the other day.
“I suppose I could.” Cole offered her an arm. “But I doubt snow removal or light installation could cover what I make building one of these.”
“Point taken,” she said.
“It’s got an amazing view,” he said, leading her toward the windows where a single door stood. “Want to see?”
“Definitely.”
A rush of freezing air set her teeth on edge the instant he opened the door. At the same time, a gasp escaped. The Snake River canyon yawned wide, not far from where they stood. Though it was dark, she could make out just how deep it dropped. Locals joked that it was Idaho’s version of the Grand Canyon, 500 feet deep at least.
“I like to go running here,” Cole said, leaning an elbow on the barrier’s edge. “On that path that circles the canyon’s rim.”
“I’ve taken Parker there,” Saylor said. “We heard about Evel Knievel’s attempted jump across it, and he wanted to see. The hill he launched from is still there.”
“Incredible, isn’t it?” said Cole. “You couldn’t pay me to jump off that thing.”
Saylor thought of the men and women she occasionally saw geared up and ready to leap as she drove across the Perrine Bridge that crossed the canyon’s wide gape. She only ever drove across it when she was heading to Rexburg, which hadn’t been in a year, at least. Unwittingly, she thought of her brother and turned away.
“You’re not one of those bridge-jumping types?” she asked.
Cole shrugged and glanced up to the stars, one hand on the balcony’s edge. “I like being alive.”
“I completely agree.” She took another sip of cider, appreciating the warmth more so now out here in the cold.
Something sparked in Cole’s eyes. He moved in closer. His hands found their way around her waist. She suddenly wished she didn’t have this drink in her hand. His hair was tousled just enough, and that smile, the clean-shaven face...
“Have I mentioned you look amazing tonight?”
Heat tinged her insides. “You did.”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you and your mistletoe,” he said, low and enthralling, drawing his face nearer.
“I’ve been having the same problem.”
Her heart was a ready prisoner, pounding against its cage, harder and harder the closer Cole’s face tilted toward hers. His lips parted when the door behind him opened.
A portly man in a blue, button-up shirt and tie joined them, holding a drink in one hand. Music snuck through until the door closed once more behind him.
“Jack,” Cole said in greeting. He stepped aside and offered a hand, which the said Jack took.
“It’s freezing out here,” Jack said. “Though it looks like you two are staying warm enough.” He winked at Saylor, chuckling enough that his belly jiggled in reply. She couldn’t help but smile at their interaction. It was clear Jack was a close friend.
“Jack, this is Saylor. I met her the night I filled in for you.”
Her mouth dropped in pleasant surprise, and she pressed Jack’s free hand with her own. “So, this is the regular Santa? What a great job you’ve got, bringing hope to children.” He fit the part too, with his huggable stature, wrinkled smile, and welcoming face.
“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t love it. Just like working for Cole here,” Jack said. “Though my grandkids like me around for them Christmas Eve. Good thing I had Cole to step in for me.”
“I was glad to do it,” said Cole.
“We wouldn’t have met if he hadn’t,” she added.
Jack’s graying brows lifted in pleasant surprise. “Oh ho, now! What’s that they say about good turns receiving another?”
“It was definitely a good turn,” said Cole, sliding his gaze to her.
“I’ll leave you to it, then. You two have a nice evening,” said Jack, heading back inside. “Nice to meet you, Saylor.”
She waved goodbye, grateful when Cole’s warm hands found their way back around her. He dipped his head, inhaling at her temple. “I should head back inside and say a few words, and then I’m yours for the evening.”
&nbs
p; “Oh, you are?”
His nose was cold against her cheek, and he spoke softly. “Yes. I’ve made my appearance, and once we get things like games going, I’ll be able to leave whenever I’d like. So you’d better think about what we should do next.”
She was stunned for several seconds. “You mean you don’t have everything planned?” she said senselessly.
He winked before following her back inside.
“Time to fire up the evening,” Cole said, approaching the microphone near the piano. The small clusters of people stopped and faced him, their conversations fading. Several gathered near the balconies above as well. The woman dabbling at the piano ended her song, and Cole gave her a grateful nod.
“Thanks for coming tonight and for another great year,” Cole said. People applauded politely. He delivered a brief speech about how he couldn’t do this without them and how a good crew was indispensable. More applause followed, and someone shouted out, “So’s a good boss!”
Cole saluted the man with a grateful smirk. The man tipped his glass in his direction.
“Happy New Year,” Cole finished, and the rest of them echoed the sentiment. “Enjoy yourselves until midnight! We’ve got karaoke and dancing. Refreshments are being served just outside the arboretum, and the ball drop will be displayed on screens in the cafeteria.”
More of the gatherers whooped and cat-called. Saylor smiled, satisfaction and pleasure sinking in warmer than her cider. These people respected him. He was a good boss, a good man. How did she ever get lucky enough to find him? She definitely needed to not mess anything up this time around. If only there was some way to guarantee as much.
Chapter Fourteen
Cole and Saylor made their way through the various games and events at the party, strolled through the botanical display in the arboretum, and even sang a few rounds of karaoke with the others. The festivity went on for a few more hours, until Cole left his foreman to usher their guests from the building and lock things up. Together, he and Saylor stepped back out into the starry, glacial night.
All I Want For Christmas: Holiday Romance Page 9
