A Bride by Christmas

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  Uh-oh, Luke thought, then took a big bite of pizza to give himself time to consider his answer. The invitations couldn’t be ordered with Precious and Clyde’s names on them. They didn’t even exist. Think, St. John.

  “Um…why don’t you hold off on the invitations for now,” he said finally. “I should run that by Precious and Clyde just in case they have an idea as to what will make the mothers happy.”

  “Okay. Would you ask them how they feel about tiny holly berries edging the invitations? I thought that would be so festive for a Christmas wedding.”

  “I’m sure that part will be fine. There certainly are a lot of things to tend to for a picture-perfect wedding, aren’t there?”

  “It takes months,” Maggie said, laughing, “and then—blink—the ceremony is over in about fifteen minutes.” She frowned in the next instant. “And in our family the marriage lasts about that long, too.”

  Change the subject, Luke thought frantically. He didn’t want Maggie centering on the Jenkins Jinx, not tonight. Her beautiful eyes sparkled when she talked about the plans for the wedding, and the expression on her face was pure joy.

  Not only that, he needed more superstitions for her to dismiss, to attempt to talk him out of believing, if he was to build a solid foundation for his case.

  No, the Jenkins Jinx was definitely off-limits this evening.

  “You know,” he said, “you’ve never seen my apartment. I was just thinking that I have some mint-chocolate-chip ice cream in my freezer. Would you like to go there for dessert?”

  Maggie leaned toward him. “Mint-chocolate-chip?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Two scoops?”

  “Three scoops,” he said, holding up that many fingers.

  “I have no willpower when it comes to mint-chocolate-chip ice cream,” Maggie said. “Oh, my, three scoops.”

  “I thought you might like that flavor,” Luke said, appearing extremely pleased with himself. “See how well I’m getting to know you, Maggie? It boggles the mind.”

  It terrifies the mind, Maggie thought. They were becoming so connected, bonded, on the same wavelength and… Never mind. She wasn’t going to get all in a dither about it.

  She was about to have three scoops of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream. Ah, yes, life was good.

  Nine

  “My goodness,” Maggie said, taking in Luke’s enormous living room. “This is incredible, just beautiful. I’ve never been in a penthouse apartment before. The view is fabulous. I’d probably lose track of time and just sit for hours gazing out those windows at the city lights. You must look forward to coming home each day after work, Luke.”

  Not anymore, Luke thought as he stared at the awed expression on Maggie’s face. Now it was just a whole lot of empty space waiting for Maggie to fill it to overflowing with her sunshine, laughter and…well, by just being Maggie.

  “Ready for that ice cream?” he said.

  “Sure. Can I see the kitchen?”

  Luke laughed. “Follow me. It’s fun to experience this place through fresh eyes.”

  Maggie gushed on and on about the fantastic kitchen as Luke scooped out the ice cream. As he picked up the bowls to carry them to the table, he dropped one of the spoons.

  “Darn,” he said.

  “I’ll get it,” Maggie said, retrieving the spoon from the floor and rinsing it under the faucet.

  They settled onto chairs opposite each other at the round oak table and Maggie took several mouthfuls of the dessert before she realized that Luke was staring into space.

  “What’s wrong?” she said.

  “I was just wondering what child was going to come visit me and I’m coming up blank.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Maggie said, obviously confused.

  “When you drop a spoon it means a child will visit. A fork brings a woman to your door, and a knife indicates the visitor will be a man.”

  “Is that a fact,” Maggie said drily.

  “Yep.”

  “Mmm,” Maggie said, frowning at him.

  “It’s true,” Luke said, leaning toward her. “I dropped a knife last month and—bingo—Robert popped in for no reason other than he was in the neighborhood.”

  “Robert is your brother. It makes perfect sense that he’d like to see you. It has nothing to do with the knife you dropped, Luke.”

  “Oh, yeah? Well, another time it was a fork, and you’d better believe I shoved all the dirty dishes in the dishwasher before the knock came at the door. And there she was, my mother, bringing me some brownies she’d baked.” He paused. “I wonder what little kid… Are Girl Scouts selling cookies now or something?”

  “Halt,” Maggie said, raising one hand. “Has Robert ever come by unannounced before?”

  “Well…yes.”

  “And is your mother in the habit of bringing you homemade baked goods?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I rest my case. Your fumble-fingers with the silverware was just a coincidence, nothing more. Another one of those superstitions you should forget about.”

  “Think so?”

  “Know so.” Maggie took another spoonful of ice cream. “Mmm. This is delicious. You’d better start on yours before it melts.”

  “You’re really punching holes in my superstitions, you know,” Luke said, then started in on his dessert.

  “They can control your life if you’re not careful,” Maggie said.

  Luke laughed. “Not all of them. There’s one just for women. If she goes out in public and her slip shows, it means her father loves her more than her mother does.”

  “No, Luke, it means that either her slip is too long or her dress is too short.”

  “What you’re saying makes sense, I guess. Then again…hmm. I’ll have to think about this.” He paused. “Enough about superstitions. I’m going to go put some music on. I’ll be right back.”

  A few moments later Maggie stiffened in her chair as the sound of lilting music reached her.

  Oh, God, she thought, that was one of the waltzes she and Luke had danced to at Ginger and Robert’s wedding. The beautiful song evoked special memories she intended to keep for all time. Did Luke remember why that particular tune was so meaningful or was it just a coincidence that he had put it on? No, men didn’t get caught up in things like that. Music was music.

  Luke came back into the kitchen and stood next to Maggie’s chair.

  “Recognize that waltz?” he said quietly. “We danced to it at Robert and Ginger’s wedding. I asked the band leader what it was and went out and bought it so I could play it when you came here.”

  “Really?” Maggie said, a warmth suffusing her and creating a flush on her cheeks. “You did that? Of course I remember it, Luke, but to think that you went to all this trouble to… I don’t know what to say.”

  He extended one hand toward her. “Say you’ll dance with me.”

  From a seemingly faraway dreamy place, Maggie watched her hand float up to grasp Luke’s, then she was on her feet and in his embrace. He held her close, moving with the music as he glided them out of the kitchen and into the living room, which was filled with the melody from speakers mounted high on the wall in each corner of the large room.

  Maggie nestled her head on Luke’s shoulder as they danced, drinking in the feel of him, his aroma, the strength of his body. Around the room they went, so gracefully, so perfectly in step.

  It was so romantic that tears burned at the back of Maggie’s eyes and desire consumed her, making it impossible to think clearly. She could only feel and savor and wish for the music to never end.

  But it did finish, and they stopped in front of the tall windows where the lights of the city spread out in all directions like a fairyland. Another song started, but they didn’t move, just held fast to each other. Then Luke shifted enough so he could tilt Maggie’s chin up with one gentle fingertip, lowered his head and kissed her.

  The kiss was so soft and tender, so exactly right to mark the finis
h of the memory-filled waltz, that two tears spilled onto Maggie’s cheeks. Luke deepened the kiss and she gave herself to him, swept away by the moment and the music and…Luke.

  Then he slowly, so slowly, lowered her to the plush carpet. He stretched out next to her, bracing his weight on one forearm as he drew a thumb over her tears.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice husky. “I’ve actually daydreamed about this, about seeing you here in my home, right here in front of these windows with the world spread out before us as though it belongs only to us. Ah, Maggie, I…” Love you with all that I am, all I will ever be, for eternity. “I…want to make love to you so much, so very much.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He kissed her, then they parted long enough to shed their clothes and reached for each other once again. An urgency engulfed them, a need so great it was indescribable.

  With hands never still, they caressed.

  With lips seeking more, they kissed.

  With passion soaring to unbelievable heights, they waited until they could bear it no longer.

  Then they joined, meshed into one entity that made it impossible to decipher where the body soft and feminine and the one so very masculine ended and began.

  The music had stopped, but they could hear their special waltz as they rocked in gentle rhythm to the exquisite song that belonged to them alone. The tension built within them, tightening, spiraling, taking them higher, up and away, until they burst into the heavens with the lights of their world beyond the windows showing them the way.

  It was ecstasy. It was nearly shattering in its splendor, an explosion of sensations like none before. They drifted, savoring, murmuring the name of the other, until they returned to rest on the lush carpet that cradled them.

  Luke moved off Maggie, then shifted her so her back was to his front and they could gaze out at the lights. He buried his face in her fragrant hair for a long moment, then tucked her head beneath his chin.

  Maggie drew a shuddering breath, then smothered a sob that threatened to escape from her throat.

  Dear God, she thought, she loved him. She was in love with Luke St. John. There was no denying it, nowhere to hide from the truth of it, nowhere to run. She loved him. He was all, everything and more that she’d fantasized about finding in a man, the one who would steal her heart for all time if things were different. If she was a normal woman, not plagued by the Jenkins Jinx. She loved him, but she couldn’t have him, and it was just so incredibly sad.

  But for now? she thought, blinking back unwelcomed tears. He was hers. Until Precious and Clyde’s wedding, Luke was hers. She would cherish every moment she had with him and ignore the ticking of the clock that would signal their goodbye.

  “What we just shared was…” Luke said, then stopped speaking for a second. “No, I don’t have the words.”

  “I don’t either,” Maggie said softly, “but I know that it was… I’ll never forget this night, Luke.”

  “I won’t either.” He paused, then chuckled. “I think our ice cream has melted.”

  Maggie smiled. “I think my bones have melted.”

  Time lost meaning as they lay together in sated, comfortable silence, then Maggie finally sighed.

  “I’m about to fall asleep,” she said. “I’d better get home, Luke.”

  “Ah, Maggie, stay. Please,” he said. “We’ll sleep with our heads on the same pillow in my bed and have breakfast together in the morning.”

  “I don’t think…”

  “Please?”

  Why not? Maggie thought. In for a penny, in for a pound, or however that saying went. She was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with this man. The damage was done, the heartbreak guaranteed when all of this ended. Why not share everything she could with Luke while it was possible?

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I’ll stay.”

  “Thank you,” Luke said, then shifted away from her, rolled to his feet and extended one hand to her. “Come on. I promise my bed is softer than this floor.”

  Maggie placed her hand in his and allowed him to draw her up into an embrace where his mouth melted over hers in a searing kiss. On legs that weren’t quite steady she walked by his side to the large master bedroom that was decorated in gray and burgundy. Luke turned on a lamp on the nightstand, then flipped back the blankets to reveal burgundy sheets.

  “Oh, wait,” he said. “Make note of which side of the bed you get in on because you have to leave on the same side in the morning or you’ll have bad luck.”

  “Here we go again,” Maggie said, rolling her eyes. “Another St. John superstition.”

  “Well,” he said, shrugging, “at least I have a variety to offer. You’re zoned in on the Jenkins Jinx and that’s it.”

  Maggie looked up at him and frowned. “Which has generations of proof that validates it.”

  “That may be true, but you’ve managed to punch holes in all the superstitions I’ve presented so far, shown me that there’s room for doubt. The same may hold true for your jinx.”

  “No,” Maggie said, taking a step backward. “I’m not going to even entertain the idea that the jinx can be broken. I’ve seen the heartache suffered by those who thought they could do exactly that. No.”

  “Okay,” Luke said, raising both hands in a gesture of peace. “Forget I said that. I didn’t mean to upset you on this incredibly perfect night.” He swept one arm in the direction of the bed. “Madam?”

  Maggie settled onto the bed with a sigh of pleasure.

  “Oh, this is heavenly,” she said.

  “I’m going to go turn out the lights in the other rooms and dump the soupy ice cream,” Luke said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “’Kay,” she said, then yawned.

  Luke chuckled, then strode from the room. When he returned, Maggie was sound asleep. He slipped carefully into the bed next to her, then propped up on one forearm to watch her sleep.

  So lovely, he thought. Maggie was here with him, where she belonged. If only there was a golden ring on her finger symbolizing her being his wife, his partner in life.

  He was winning little victories each time she made it clear that the newest superstition he’d declared was foolish, should be dismissed as nonsense. Each of those incidents gave him ammunition to demolish the Jenkins Jinx. He was definitely making progress. Wasn’t he? Oh, man, he just had to be.

  But Maggie was so…so fierce about the jinx, was determined not to fall prey to the belief that she could be the one to prove it untrue, to break the long cycle of disastrous marriages in the Jenkins family. No, she had said. No.

  And little victories meant nothing if he didn’t win the final battle. He couldn’t bear that thought. He’d just keep on as he was, chipping away at that wall of Maggie’s. He was going to conquer the demon that held her so tight.

  He was going to marry Maggie Jenkins. She loved him, he believed that with every fiber of his being. And heaven knew that he loved her. That love would grow, become stronger, unbeatable, smash the jinx into dust to be blown into oblivion.

  Luke nodded decisively, snapped off the lamp, then settled close to Maggie, his head on the same pillow as hers just as he’d promised.

  But it was many hours before he finally slept.

  Two weeks later Maggie and Luke stood in the honeymoon suite on the top floor of one of Phoenix’s exclusive hotels.

  “Luke, this is awful,” Maggie said with a burst of laughter. “A heart-shaped bed? A color scheme of bright red? Velvet spread, upholstery, even the drapes? A shiny red hot tub? It’s so tacky, it’s beyond belief.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Luke said, grinning, “I guess it depends on how you feel about red. This place could sure turn a guy off Valentine’s Day. Man, they went nuts in here.”

  “The manager said it’s very popular,” Maggie said, shaking her head. “That’s a scary thought.”

  “Yep,” Luke said, glancing around. “It’s even worse than the one that had forty-two stuffed to
y cupids. I counted them, you know, and there were actually forty-two of those chubby little guys ready to shoot arrows. That was a nightmare waiting to happen.”

  “Well, cross this one off the list of possibilities.” Maggie looked at her watch. “I’ve got to rush. I’m meeting Janet and Patty at the bridal shop for the first fitting of their bridesmaids’ dresses.”

  “Have you…um…looked at wedding dresses yet?” Luke said, sliding a glance at her.

  “No, not yet. I’m sure the perfect dress for…for Precious is there because the selection is wonderful. That shop is where Ginger got her gown. They’re terribly expensive, though.”

  “No problem,” Luke said. “Don’t even think about the money. The sky is the limit…or whatever. In other words, go for it.”

  “Right. Let’s get out of here. All this red is giving me a headache.”

  “Are you sure you can’t come to my place tonight?” Luke said as they started toward the door.

  “No, I’ve got to go see my mother, Luke. You know, have dinner with her, chat, what have you. She’s feeling neglected and I don’t blame her. I haven’t been to her house in far too long. I’ll just go straight home from there.”

  “I’ll miss you,” he said. “I’m getting very spoiled having you next to me in my bed at night and seeing you when I open my eyes in the morning. It’s nice. It’s more than nice.”

  Maggie gripped the doorknob, then hesitated and smiled up at Luke.

  “Yes,” she said, “I agree. It’s very, very nice.” She laughed. “By the way, you know that superstition you laid on me last night? I want you to know that I purposely put on my left shoe before my right one this morning and I have not had one bit of unluck, if there is such a word.”

  Luke braced his hand flat on the door to prevent Maggie from leaving the brilliant-red suite.

  “Well, now, aren’t you turning into a risk taker?” he said, smiling.

  “Not really, Luke. I mean, after all, these are just superstitions that I’m declaring to be untrue. You should be feeling a step-by-step sense of freedom as each one gets checked off your list. I don’t think I’m taking any risks by doing that.”