The Christmas He Loved Her

by Juliana Stone

  But it was Thanksgiving, after all, and the Edwardses loved to make a big deal out of the holidays. This year, with Steven’s recovery and Jake’s return, Marnie would no doubt go all-out. It was a distraction she needed, as well as a celebration.

  She twirled the mascara wand inside the canister and applied one last coat. Damned if she was going to show up and meet Jake’s new girl looking anything less than spectacular, and though it might be silly of her to feel that way, she wasn’t about to overanalyze her feelings. Besides, there was nothing wrong with wanting to look good.

  She stood back and stared at her reflection critically. Nothing wrong at all.

  She’d successfully covered her pale complexion with a light dusting of bronzer and blush. With a touch of smoky shadow—along with the goopy mascara—her eyes had a dramatic, exotic look to them. A whisper of gloss on her lips and she was good to go.

  She’d thought of flat-ironing her hair, but realized the ends would look jagged, a direct result of her dumb idea to cut it herself. So she left it to wave around her face and angled her head for a better look. She supposed the waves softened the more pronounced lines of her cheekbones and jaw.

  She tucked the one piece that always curled the wrong way behind her ear and sighed. What the hell had she been thinking? Answer? She hadn’t.

  Shit, Raine, the next time you’re feeling blue, do not pick up the scissors. Cutting hair isn’t the answer. Reach for the wine bottle instead. Wise words from her friend Maggie.

  Raine dabbed a hint of Escape behind her ears and searched her closet for her black Pradas. They’d been an extravagant impulse purchase the last time she’d been to Detroit, but damn, they looked good and added to her height. She tossed them in her bag along with a pair of flats, and she was ready.

  Raine stood in front of the long mirror that hung on the back of her bedroom door and studied herself with a careful eye. She’d lost some weight in the last few months for sure, but the padded bra did wonders for her bustline, and the dress she’d donned didn’t look awful.

  The bodice was a sleeveless boat neck in ice-blue silk, while the dark navy skirt clung to her body and fell a few inches above the knee. She smoothed the soft fabric over her hips, and for a second her fingers faltered as an image of strong male hands over hers flashed in her mind. She inhaled sharply, felt the heat and the whisper of a caress. An ache so intense it nearly brought her to her knees spread through her body, and a whimper fell from her lips as she struggled to keep it together.

  Her hands lingered at her waist, and her vision blurred as the emptiness inside her expanded into fragments of hurt, despair, and longing. She bit her lip. She couldn’t let it linger. She knew from previous experience that if she did, it would consume her and she’d never make it out of the house.

  Gibson chose that moment to come barreling into her bedroom, barking happily at her feet, and it was enough to break the spell. Raine exhaled a long, shuddering breath and ran her fingers across his soft back, digging in slightly as she murmured, “You ready, fella?”

  The dog took off for the foyer, Raine following in his steps, and after she slipped into a pair of boots, she grabbed her purse off the hall table along with a bottle of wine and headed out into the crisp, cool air. The rain had finally stopped earlier that morning, though it was still cold and damp. Dead leaves scattered her yard, their wet carcasses dressing the grass and pathway in a blanket of gray-brown sludge.

  She picked her way toward her car, avoiding mud and slimy leaves, though she was pretty sure Gibson wasn’t as careful. Not that it mattered. She didn’t exactly drive a limo. She let him into the backseat, where he promptly turned in a circle before settling onto an old, ratty blanket.

  The car was an ancient Volkswagen she’d bought when she was eighteen after working two entire summers at The Hut, a local ice cream joint. Jesse had hated the damn thing and refused to even sit in it, referring to it as a Barbiemobile. She smiled at the thought, though it quickly faded as she glanced toward the passenger seat. It was as empty as it ever was, the moss-colored vinyl seat held together with duct tape. She’d thought of getting it repaired, but then, what was the point? No one ever sat in it.

  With a sigh she reversed out of her driveway and headed toward the Edwardses’.

  The trip didn’t take long, as her in-laws basically lived around the corner—though out here it meant they lived down the lake. She followed the twisting road, catching sight of the water through the trees to her left, and ten minutes later pulled up next to Jake’s Jeep. She noticed another car parked on the other side of it and frowned.

  A tattered bumper sticker with an overly religious slogan—Raise Your Hand for Jesus—was barely discernible from age, but it sure as hell looked like her mother’s compact sedan.

  Great. It would be just like Marnie to invite Gloria for dinner. The woman had a heart of gold and a soft spot for anyone and everything.

  Gibson yapped happily and followed her up the steps toward the front door. She opened it and whispered for the dog to sit, but of course Gibson was like any other man she knew. His selective hearing kicked in and he ignored her completely, running madly toward the back of the house, where the kitchen was.

  Where the food was.

  And from the sounds of the voices…where all the people were.

  Raine picked out Jake’s low timbre immediately, and as she slipped off her boots and tucked her feet into her heels, she wondered how the hell she was going to get through this day. Between Jake, his lady friend, and her mother, Gloria, she just might end up bat-shit crazy.

  Gibson must have found the humans—Marnie’s squeal of delight echoed down the hall—and that brought a smile to Raine’s face. Her mother-in-law adored the puppy and had insisted she bring him for the afternoon.

  “There you are!”

  Raine had just hung up her coat when she turned and was immediately enveloped by her father-in-law’s tight embrace. Steven Edwards was a tall, burly bear of a man who had no trouble showing emotion. A man of contradictions, he wasn’t afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve because he didn’t give two shits about what anyone thought of him. He lived for his family and loved his wife with blind devotion, but when it came to business, he was known as a ball breaker.

  “You look beautiful.” He stood back and nodded—his pale eyes so much like Jesse’s, crinkled around the corners. His large, open face was a tad gaunt from his surgery. And though he too had lost a bit of weight, the man was still sturdy. They stared at each for several seconds, her eyes misting at the pain reflected in his. Jesse was gone, but his presence was still larger than life, and she knew Steven missed his son terribly.

  He cleared his throat. “Can I take that?”

  She handed him the bottle of wine. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

  “Bah.” He waved his hand. “I look like crap, but I’m feeling better.”

  “Raine, we were just going to send Jake after you.” Marnie Edwards joined her husband, a smile on her face. The woman was small, a few inches over five feet, with a slight frame. She always looked put together and today was no different. Her simple cream dress, a Dior by the look of it, was fabulous, and her dark hair, perfectly kept and shiny, curved expertly against her jaw. Red and black jewelry complemented the ensemble.

  “Well, I’m here, so there’s no need to send the cavalry.”

  “Come on in, we’re just having drinks, and dinner is ready when we are.” Marnie threaded her arm through Raine’s. “I hope you don’t mind, but I asked your mother to join us.”

  “No.” She smiled tightly. “I don’t mind at all.” They entered the kitchen and turned toward the family room, which was to the left.

  Gloria sat on a deep leather sofa the color of cured tobacco, a tremulous smile on her face. She wore a simple black dress with a single strand of pearls that she rolled between her fingers nervously. Her long
hair was pulled off her face and pinned loosely on top of her head. She looked elegant and beautiful and every bit the mother that Raine used to dream about. But those days were long gone.

  The woman on the sofa was a stranger.

  Raine nodded at Gloria but remained silent as she glanced at Jake, who was a few feet away, near the wall of glass.

  He stood in the corner by the fireplace, hands shoved into the pockets of faded jeans, expression guarded as he looked in her direction. His wide shoulders were dressed in a slate-gray-blue sweater with a white collared shirt beneath it. His stance said casual, but the darkness in his eyes and the firm set to his mouth screamed anything but…

  What happened to you Jake? What happened to us?

  Gibson sat at his feet, wagging his tail as if Jake Edwards was his entire world, and a shot of resentment rifled through Raine.

  Traitor dog.

  “You must be Raine.”

  Startled, she tore her gaze from Jake and turned around. A tall, willowy, blonde thing—one who belonged on the pages of a fashion magazine, not standing in the middle of the Edwardses’ kitchen—had spoken. As if the Red Sea itself had parted for her, the woman stood alone, and Raine swore that the only beam of sunlight to appear all day broke through the clouds and filtered in through the windows—just for one second—to halo her head in a ring of golden glory.

  Crystal-blue eyes stared at her from a face that could only be described as perfection. Cold perfection, mind you, but flawless nonetheless. It looked as though a zit had never had the audacity to grace her chin. Long hair hung in perfectly coiled waves down her right shoulder—artfully arranged that way, no doubt. The dress she wore was stunning, a perfectly molded black creation with a plunging neckline that showed off every curve—and the curves, they were substantial. The woman was a cross between Marilyn Monroe and Barbie, truly every man’s dream.

  Apparently, Jake’s dream.

  Raine disliked her on sight, which might not have been fair, but there it was.

  The blonde arched an eyebrow, as if sensing Raine’s feelings, and a smile stole over her features—one that showed off plump Playboy lips and a row of perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. Fake. Fake and fake.

  She looked familiar, and a tingle of apprehension wove its way down Raine’s spine.

  “Oh, my goodness. Where are my manners?” Marnie tugged her forward and nodded. “Raine, this is Lily, Jake’s friend.”

  The woman—Lily—held her hand toward Raine as if she were a queen and Raine was the damn maid. She ignored the hand, and the smile on Lily’s face widened like the one on the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. She withdrew her scarlet-tipped fingers and bingo, a lightbulb lit up in Raine’s mind.

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  She glanced over at Jake. What the hell was he thinking?

  “Lily…your last name is St. Clare, if I’m not mistaken?” Raine asked sweetly as she accepted a glass of pinot noir from her mother-in-law.

  The blonde’s eyes narrowed at Raine’s tone; a slight tightening pulled at her mouth, but it was gone in an instant. She nodded coolly. Diamonds sparkled at her ears, peeking through the silken sheets of hair, and they shimmered like raindrops breaking on water.

  “Of the Boston St. Clares?” Raine added.

  Again, another tight nod. The woman was uncomfortable. Good.

  Raine smiled toward Jake once more. “I can’t wait to hear how our very own Jake Edwards from lil’ old Crystal Lake managed to hook up with one of the St. Clare sisters.” She paused. “So which one are you anyway? The one who’s famous or the one who’s infamous?”

  Lily was silent for a moment, her eyes glassy like newly frozen ice. Raine held her gaze. She wasn’t a pushover, some backwoods country girl in awe of the big-city trust-fund baby.

  “Neither.” Lily didn’t elaborate and Raine pursed her lips wondering…just how many St. Clare sisters were there?

  “Well, then.” Marnie spoke quickly as if sensing the tension and nodded toward the dining room. “Franklin’s ready, so let’s eat!”

  Raine watched Steven and her mother, Gloria, follow in Marnie’s steps, while Lily glanced toward Jake, nodded slightly, and then followed suit.

  Jake joined her in the kitchen, eyes hard and mouth set into a firm line that told her a bunch of stuff she didn’t want to know.

  While she’d spent the last year and a half worrying about him, he’d been doing God knows what with Lily St. Clare. Of the Boston St. Clares. He cared about this woman, and for him to bring her back to Crystal Lake for a family holiday, well, that meant he cared for her a whole hell of a lot.

  She glared at him, hoping he could see the anger she felt inside. He’d chosen Lily St. Clare over his family.

  Over me.

  The thought was selfish and snuck in quicker than she could blink it away.

  Jake leaned close, his breath a warm whisper against her cheek, though the steel in his voice was as cold and hard as an arctic blast. “Don’t be a bitch. She’s not what you think.”

  “How would you know what I think?” Raine grabbed his hand, wanting to pull him aside and tell him exactly what was on her mind, but all conscious thought fled. The only thing that settled inside her brain was how warm he felt and how rough the pads of his fingers were. Heat poured into her like lava rippling over the side of a volcano.

  It was the kind of heat that made you dizzy. The kind that made you crazy.

  She yanked her hand from his as if she’d been burned, her body trembling, her breath caught in her throat.

  Jake’s face whitened. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get in your face…” Jake’s voice trailed off as he stared down at her. He ran his fingers through the waves that curled near his collar. “Shit, Raine. I…”

  “I’m good,” she said tersely. “Let’s eat.”

  She pushed past him, escaped to the dining room, and slid into the seat beside Steven, with Gloria to her right, only too aware of the empty chair at the end of the table. Her eyes rested on it for a moment, and then she focused on one of the biggest centerpieces she’d ever seen. It was a cornucopia filled with fresh flowers, gourds, and baby pumpkins, yet it was nearly lost among the huge assortment of food.

  God, there was so much food. The smell nauseated her and Raine quickly topped up her wineglass, ignoring the little voice inside her head—the one that said slow the hell down. She was staring down the barrel of the Thanksgiving from hell, and if a little extra fortification was needed, then so be it.

  Because Lord knows, it was.

  Gloria kept trying to make small talk, all the while piling more food onto Raine’s plate as if she weren’t going to notice. Across the table, Lily studied her covertly from her spot beside Jake, and Raine wasn’t sure what made her more anxious—Lily’s all-knowing gaze or Jake’s dark, brooding glare.

  The next hour passed in a haze of conversation that Raine would never remember. Steven and Marnie were gracious as usual, making polite small talk with Lily while including Gloria as much as they could. But Jake was quiet, his dark eyes never far from Raine, and she tried like hell to ignore him.

  Just as she tried to ignore the empty chair at the end of the table. It was a huge reminder that she didn’t belong to anyone anymore.

  She was well on her way to finishing her third glass of wine—or maybe it was her fourth—when Marnie asked for her help in the kitchen. Something about the pumpkin pie and the triple-chocolate trifle, and Raine was only too happy to oblige. Anything to get away from her mother and the blond Barbie…and Jake.

  She just wished her stomach would stop rolling and that Marnie would turn down the heat. It was hot…so, so hot. She grabbed a cloth, ran it under the cold water, and then pressed it against her forehead. Her hair was damp, the short length of it curling madly against her neck.

  She must look lik
e a wilted flower.

  “Raine,” Marnie whispered as if afraid anyone would hear her.

  Raine exhaled slowly and turned from the sink. “Yes?” Her heart raced and it took more than a little effort for her to remain still…to keep her head up and not wobble on her four-inch Pradas. Damn, she knew better. She was a lightweight when it came to wine.

  Marnie snuck a look into the dining room and clasped her hands together. “I need to ask you a favor.”

  Raine dabbed the wet cloth against her throat, not caring that large drops fell down the top of her dress, staining the silk. She leaned back against the sink and concentrated. “A favor? Sure,” she said carefully, her tongue thick. “Anything, Marnie.”

  “Isn’t it wonderful to have Jake back with us?”

  Raine nodded. “Peachy.” The room spun a little bit, but she gripped the edge of the counter and managed to stay upright.

  Marnie gave her a strange look. “Are you all right?”

  “Never been better.” She hiccupped and pressed the cloth against her cheeks once more.

  “You just looked a little peaked, dear.”

  Raine didn’t say anything, mostly because she was concentrating on her stomach.

  Marnie cleared her throat and spoke quietly. “I think that this Lily person means a lot more to Jake than he’s let on, and…”

  “You think?” She’d gone for a sarcastic retort, but it was lost on Marnie.

  “I know you’ve got a few things to work out with Jake. I know he upset you when he left, but I’m hoping you can put that aside. I’m hoping you will help me with something.”

  Oh God, Marnie needed to get to the point, because Raine didn’t think she could stand much longer. She padded the wet cloth along her forehead and down her neck once more and hoped the floor would stop moving beneath her feet.

  Maybe she should have switched her Pradas for her flats.