The Christmas Catch

by Ginny Baird

  John poured them each a glass of wine and set the bottle on the dining room table. “Say,” he said, noting her sketches, “are these yours?”

  Christine had been so intent on serving their big bowls of stew by the fire, she’d completely forgotten she’d left these out from earlier in the afternoon. “They’re just a couple of rough drafts. Something I’m working on.”

  “Well, I think they’re fantastic” he said admiringly. “Really, Christine. When you said you wanted to start your own line, I had no idea. You’ve got serious talent.”

  “Thanks. I’d like to think so. At least enough to get something of my own going someday.”

  “I don’t doubt it for a moment.” He raised his wineglass to hers. “I have faith in you. Faith that you can pretty much accomplish anything you want to.”

  She clinked his glass, her heart light. John was so kind and accepting. His encouraging words meant the world to her. She was finally starting to recover from her earlier urge to ravage him. She must have been tipsy, thinking unclearly. When it was clear he meant to be only on platonic terms.

  He lifted one of her drawings and studied it closely. “You know what you need?” he asked, looking up. “A business plan.”

  “A what?”

  “A business plan,” he said firmly. “A way to plot how to get from point A to point Z.”

  Christine hesitated. Of course she wanted to do it… eventually. Ever since John had first suggested starting her own company, she’d been considering her options. But it was a far-off dream, some nebulous fantasy. Nothing she could work on concretely at the moment. Starting her own line as a writer was ambitious enough. “I don’t know,” she began, “that involves a lot of time and effort. And right now, things are complicated. There’s my present job… There’s Ty…”

  He eyed her astutely. “Hmm, yes. I see.”

  “What do you see?”

  “Just that you’re not ready, but that’s okay. When you’re ready, you’ll know it.”

  Everyone needed long-term goals and this one was fun to think about. It didn’t have to be this year, or even next... Christine White Originals, yes, that had a ring to it. Christine met John’s gaze. “The future is long.”

  “It is indeed,” he said with a grin.

  Chapter Nine

  As they sat by the fire enjoying their wine, John noted a CD on an end table. He picked it up with pleased surprise. “A James Taylor Christmas. Hey, is this yours?”

  “In my mind I’m going to Carolina,” she said with a smile that made him want to drop everything and go there with her. John liked James Taylor, but probably hadn’t listened to his music in years.

  “Mind if I put it on?” he asked.

  “Sure. The stereo’s right over there,” she said, pointing to a cabinet near the bar.

  “What’s Christmas Eve without music?”

  “You’re right,” she agreed. “We should have thought of it sooner.”

  John inserted the CD and a sappy yet sexy rendition of Baby It’s Cold Outside began to play. “An oldie but goodie,” he said.

  “With a new twist.”

  Rich dark waves spilled to her shoulders as her cheeks took on a gentle glow. She was gorgeous in that pretty white sweater and jeans, her deep brown eyes sparkling in the soft light. Outside the windows, snow fell lightly, gently streaking the darkness. It was John’s best Christmas Eve in recent memory. Maybe ever.

  “You look really nice tonight,” he said, his voice growing raspy. “Beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” she said, her eyes locked on his. “I was just thinking that you look great too.”

  John sensed inside that he shouldn’t do it, but an even louder inner voice said he’d be a fool to stop himself. Here he was, alone with a gorgeous woman on Christmas Eve, and John could think of only one thing he wanted—to close the distance between them. He’d been longing to hold her all week, and now he had the perfect excuse. He approached her and set down his wine. “Care to dance?”

  John held out his hand and she took it, letting him guide her off the sofa and into his arms. She was so warm and feminine against him, the light scent of her wildflower perfume in the air. Firelight cast shadows on the wall as they gently swayed to the music. John pulled her close and she sighed softly, while his heart beat like big kettledrum. He had the feeling he was falling, sinking into depths he’d never known. As long as she went there with him, he didn’t care if they ever came back.

  At last, the CD ended and she looked up. There was a longing in her eyes, deeply beautiful. John led her to the threshold separating the great room from the kitchen. His voice was husky with desire as he spoke below the mistletoe.

  “It’s not such a silly tradition.”

  “No…” she said, tilting up her chin.

  John brought his mouth to hers and kissed her sweetly at first, and then with the all-consuming passion he’d restrained these past several days. He wrapped her in his embrace and she moaned, molding into him. That was all the encouragement he needed to cradle her head in his hands and deepen his kisses, his hands eager to explore her body. She was all woman, and she was all his. He ached to carry her to the sofa and drive home that point, making her cry out with pleasure and delight.

  “Mommy!” a small voice called.

  Tyler bounded down the steps, Mason barking loudly and following after him.

  John and Christine broke their embrace as John hitched his belt and Christine quickly straightened her sweater. Tyler sensed their interaction and halted his descent. “Oh,” he said, absorbing the scene.

  “Ty!” Christine said, flushed. “What are you doing up?”

  “I heard something outside.”

  “It was probably just the wind,” Christine told him.

  “No,” Ty protested. “I think it was Santa and his reindeer!”

  John and Christine exchanged glances.

  “We’d better go and check,” he said.

  Christine and John leaned out the bedroom window, spying nothing but a craggy old tree scraping the shutter.

  “It was just an old oak, little fellow,” John said reassuring Tyler. “I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm.” Christine’s heart warmed at how natural it seemed for John to interact with her boy. He really was very good with children, with Ty in particular.

  Tyler’s face fell with disappointment. “Are you sure it wasn’t Santa?”

  “Santa hasn’t gotten here yet,” Christine said.

  “And he might not come,” John said, forcing a stern look, “if you don’t go back to sleep.”

  Tyler snuggled down under the covers, pulling them up to his chin.

  “I’d probably better hit the road,” John told Christine.

  “Are you sure?” She desperately didn’t want him to go, but knew deep inside that he should. She couldn’t exactly ask him to stay the night, not with Ty in the house. It wouldn’t be right. Maybe it wouldn’t even be right for her. They were leaving in less than a week. As wonderful as John’s kisses were—and they’d been knee-melting terrific—it was likely better for Christine to not get in any deeper. If he kissed her again the way he’d done under the mistletoe, they might not be able to stop things there.

  Blue eyes sparkled with understanding. “I think my leaving’s for the best, don’t you?”

  She knew he was right, so she didn’t argue. John mussed Tyler’s hair and told him good night before heading for the door.

  “We still on for tomorrow at five?” he asked Christine. “Christmas dinner at my place?”

  “We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said with a happy smile.

  Chapter Ten

  The bright sun beat a path through the windows as wrapping paper littered the floor. Christine sat on the colorful hooked rug by the fire, helping Ty construct his Lincoln Log tower. He’d been as happy as a clam to learn Santa had brought him his own set, one he could take back to Chicago. He’d gotten a huge assortment of Legos too. That Santa really knew his stu
ff. Christine’s cell rang and she nabbed it off the coffee table.

  “Still snowing up there?” It was Ellen’s voice on the other end of the line.

  “Not at the moment,” Christine answered cheerily. She was having the best New England Christmas. “But it never stops for long.”

  “That’s good,” Ellen said, “because I need somewhere to cool off.”

  “What?”

  “A truly wicked sunburn,” she continued in a pitiful tone.

  “Oh my gosh! How did that happen?”

  “Let’s just say Emilio and I spent some time at the beach.” She lowered her voice and spoke with a mysterious edge. “A… very… private… beach.”

  “Didn’t you use protection?” Christine asked in shock.

  “Of course we did! But not sunscreen.”

  Christine blinked at Tyler, opting to take her conversation to a more confidential locale. She stood, walking out of his earshot, then whispered into the phone. “Ellen, oh my God. You’re burnt everywhere?”

  “Some parts more than others,” she quipped. “But that’s neither here nor there. I’m calling to tell you my time in the sun is done.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Emilio and I weren’t as compatible as I thought. He had a much harder time taking a tanning. And that says a lot, considering I didn’t do so well… In any case, I’m calling to tell you the happy news! I’m coming up to relieve you in Vermont!”

  Christine swallowed hard, staring at Tyler. They were finally settling in. Now clearly wasn’t the time to walk away. They had three more days on their agenda. Besides, they had Christmas dinner plans. “Ellen, I really don’t think that’s necessary. Ty and I are doing just great holding down the fort.”

  “Of course, I don’t mean to push you out completely. You can go home any time you want. Just make room for one more!”

  Christine sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “When were you thinking of arriving?” she asked weakly.

  “At four. I’m calling from the airport, as a matter of fact.”

  “Four today?” Christine spouted in a panic. She’d been looking forward to an intimate evening at John’s place. She hadn’t planned on bringing along her brash best friend.

  “I don’t eat that much,” Ellen said, affronted. “Frankly, Christine, I’m surprised at you. I didn’t think you and Ty would… Wait a minute! Hold the phone!” she cried, her tone brightening. “Is this about the sexy professor?”

  “Ellen!”

  “I knew it! You finally went out, didn’t you?”

  “Actually, we stayed in.”

  “That sounds even better! So… out with it! Is he some kind of dynamite kisser?”

  “Ellen!”

  “Hmm, I see. No time for that yet. Well, no matter, sweetheart. Goodness knows I want you to have a love life way more than the next gal. I won’t get in your way.”

  John laid three elegant place settings on the sturdy handmade table while Carlos heckled him from nearby. “I can’t believe you’d disinvite your best friend on earth from his favorite holiday meal.”

  John wryly twisted his lips. “But you’ve always criticized my Indian pudding.”

  “That’s because it’s a little lumpy.”

  “Is not!”

  “Is too. Although the Cornish hens always come out well,” Carlos added thoughtfully.

  “Thanks, Carlos. You’re a pal.” Mason followed him excitedly, repeatedly knocking his legs with a huge rawhide bone that sported a large red ribbon on at one end. “Mason, please. Will you just sit?” The dog sat immediately and John nearly tumbled over him.

  Carlos smirked and got back to business. “So? Does she have any friends?”

  “You mean, mature female friends?”

  “No, I mean ones her age.”

  “Keep dreaming.”

  “What? Women find me attractive.”

  “That, my friend, is one of life’s great mysteries.”

  “You’re just jealous because you can’t grow one of these,” Carlos said stroking his beard.

  “Could too. If I wanted to look like an old billy goat.”

  “Hey!”

  John’s cell rang and he held up a hand.

  “Christine,” he said cheerfully. “Well, hello. Uh huh… Uh huh… I see.”

  He stared at Carlos, who eyed him suspiciously.

  “No, I don’t think that would be a problem,” John continued into the receiver. “In fact, it will work out fine!”

  He pressed End Call and Carlos implored, palms up, “What gives?”

  John shot him an enigmatic grin. “Let’s just say it’s your lucky day.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A few hours later, John opened his front door to greet the trio, with Carlos and Mason at his side. Dusk had settled outdoors and it was snowing once more. Christine entered first, radiantly beautiful in a red Christmas scarf. “Welcome! Welcome to all of you,” John said, greeting Christine with a hug. He patted Tyler on the shoulder and turned toward Christine’s slightly senior friend. The attractive redhead was slender and fit, with a russet glow about her. “You must be Ellen,” John said, extending his hand.

  “Professor John Steadman!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a bear hug. She winced, the moment they made contact, her skin seemingly bruising in the embrace. “I feel like we’re old friends.” John raised his brow at Carlos, who repressed a grin. “Let me introduce you to Carlos Dominguez,” he said, pulling back.

  Carlos took her hand, turning on his Old World charm. “Encantado,” he said, laying his accent on thick.

  Ellen preened like a peacock. “Igualmente,” she returned in nearly flawless Spanish.

  Carlos addressed Christine next. “Great to see you again. You’re looking well.”

  “Thanks, Carlos. You too. Merry Christmas,” she said with a smile.

  “Well, come on in! Come on in, everybody. In—and out of the cold.”

  The happy group strode toward the living room, Tyler with a bundle of packages in hand. “Can I put these under the tree?” he asked, Mason tagging along beside him.

  “Under the tree’s just fine,” John said.

  Before long, they were enjoying a scrumptious dinner John had cooked completely from scratch. Is there no end to his talents? Christine wondered. The ranch-style house was tastefully decorated for a bachelor pad, with upscale artwork hung on the walls. It was nicely done up for the holidays. A tall balsam fir nestled by the bay window, adorned with twinkling lights and a smattering of simple, yet elegant, ornaments. Carlos was in the midst of regaling them with business school stories.

  “And that’s when I said to Santa, ‘That wasn’t a signature line, it was an escape clause!’”

  Ellen giggled with delight. Christine swore the evening had taken a decade off of her already youthful complexion, or perhaps it was the bright red hue on her cheeks inspired by an overexposure to the sun. “Carlos, what a great story. Have you ever thought of becoming a writer?”

  “Oh, I’d say the folks at the business school find me verbose enough.”

  “It’s true,” John deadpanned. “We don’t want to encourage him.”

  John stood to clear the dishes and Christine got to her feet as well.

  “Let me help,” she said with a soft smile.

  Ellen and Carlos exchanged glances. “We’ll come too,” Ellen said, as they both made an effort to stand.

  “No, please,” John replied. “You two stay here and keep Tyler company. You all done with your food?” he asked the boy.

  “Yeah, thanks! I’ve never eaten a whole chicken before.”

  Adults chuckled all around as John and Christine slipped into the kitchen.

  Christine deposited dishes in the sink, thinking how much fun she was having. John wasn’t only good in the kitchen, he was a great host too. “It was a wonderful dinner. You’re some kind of cook.”

  “I’ve a few years to practice,” he said, carrying a platter over.


  Suddenly, they were face-to-face in the small space.

  Christine froze, trapped in his gaze. He was a marvelous man. Gracious too. “It was really nice of you to include Ellen so last-minute.”

  “She and Carlos seem to be hitting it off.”

  “Boy, do they ever.”

  “I think it’s cute.”

  “And so unexpected.”

  “You certainly weren’t expecting Ellen to show up.”

  “No.”

  Christine searched his eyes. “Sometimes life delivers things we don’t plan.”

  “I like to think of them as pleasant surprises.” John stepped closer, taking her in his arms just as Carlos and Ellen entered the kitchen.

  “Oops!” Ellen said.

  “We were just hoping to help serve dessert,” explained Carlos. He massaged his beard as Tyler and Mason also entered the kitchen.

  “What’s going on?” Tyler asked, contorting his lips. “More kissing?”

  Ellen and Carlos stared at each other while Christine and John flushed.

  “Actually, Tyler,” Carlos said to the child. “We were all just thinking it’d be a good idea for some of us to go and look at that Christmas tree.”

  “Yeah, right,” Ellen piped in. “I believe there’s a package or two with your name on it.”

  Tyler’s face lit up. “Really? Whoohoo!”

  As they departed, Christine heaved a sigh. “Great friends.”

  “World’s best.”

  “What were we saying?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, drawing closer. “Something about life’s surprises?”

  And boy, hadn’t life surprised her with John. She hadn’t realized until last night how much she cared about him. Judging by the way he’d kissed her under the mistletoe, he had feelings for her too.

  “Sometimes what we least expect is the best, don’t you think?” she said, looking up at him. “What I mean to say is…” Christine stood a bit straighter, gathering her courage. “John, this holiday has been great, the best ever. I could never have imagined it happening to me, but it has.”