by Debbie Mason
Matt glanced at his watch. “He held out longer than I expected.”
“He was calling for Liz. She needs help with wedding stuff, I guess.”
He angled his head. “And you believed him?”
She moved her coffee cup back and forth in front of her. “It’s not what you think. He… We’re not. Well, you know.”
“Yeah, I do.” He reached across the table, covering her hand with his. “I like you, Vivi. And if I thought I had a shot, I’d like to see where this takes us. But I don’t think I do, do I?”
Her eyes dropped to the hand covering hers. He had great hands. He healed people with those hands. And the nickname, he came by it honestly. With his light-brown wavy hair and strong, angular features, he oozed sex appeal. He was also sweet. She hesitated, waiting for… something. Anything. That crazy electrical zing she got when Chance’s hand so much as brushed hers. She got nothing—dammit.
“You’re a nice guy, Matt.” She slowly withdrew her hand from under his. “I’m just not interested in dating right now. I’m focusing on my career. And it’s not like I’m in Christmas all that often.”
He smiled. He had a great smile. Only it didn’t cause the butterflies to take flight in her stomach the way Chance’s did. Didn’t make her dizzy or her heart pick up speed, either. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Because really, how could all those “love” chemicals, cascading through your body day in and day out, be good for you? If she described her symptoms to Matt, he’d probably diagnose her with a life-threatening illness.
Huh, that wasn’t a bad idea for a story. She picked up her iPhone and made a note to follow up on the idea—love/lust can be as deadly as a life-threatening disease. She thought about how she reacted to Chance—love/lust is as addictive as crack. Now that was an even better angle.
“Where’d you go?” Matt chuckled.
She grimaced and put down her phone. “Sorry, occupational hazard. I thought of an idea for a story. If I decide to write it, I might give you a call if you don’t mind, ask you a couple of questions.”
“Anytime. And I mean that.” He rubbed his jaw, a self-deprecating smile on his handsome face. “I haven’t dated in a while. I think I’m supposed to be playing it cool. Pretty much blew that, didn’t I?”
“No, you didn’t.” She eyed him curiously. They’d spent the last hour talking, and she hadn’t been able to get him to open up about his past or his personal life. Now that she had an opening, she wasn’t about to let it go. Everyone had a story, and she had a feeling Matt’s was an interesting one. “And I don’t believe you’ve been out of the dating game for that long. What’s it been… a couple of months?”
He studied his empty coffee mug. “A while.”
Okay, so the genial doctor could be as closemouthed as Chance. “I’ll get it out of Nell, you know. You might as well tell me.”
“No story here, Vivi. I’m an open—” He broke off when his beeper went off.
Vivi’s cell rang at the same time. “Hey, Maddie, what’s… Oh no, is she… I’ll be right there.”
Chapter Eleven
Chance stared out the hospital waiting room window, the landscape’s vibrant hues of green and blue fading to static white as the memories overtook him.
“Son, I’m sorry. They did everything they could to save Emma. She’s with Katie now. She’s with your mother.”
He didn’t want her with Kate or his mother; he wanted her with him. They told him she had a fifty-fifty chance of making it. Told him to hang on to hope. He’d clung to it like a lifeline in a storm-tossed sea. It was the only thing that had kept his heart beating, kept him from completely falling apart four hours ago when he’d learned Kate hadn’t survived. The baby was part of her. A reason for him to go on. Without them both…
“Chance, son, are you all right?”
It was this fucking room with the antiseptic smell. It brought everything back. Chance shook off the remnants of the memory as he worked to get the words out of his mouth. “How’s Liz?”
His father took the seat beside him. “She’ll be fine. With everything going on, she forgot to take her beta-blockers. It wouldn’t have been a problem if she hadn’t overexerted herself.” Resting his elbows on this thighs, he scrubbed his face with his hands.
“I’m glad she’s okay,” Chance said, noting the slight tremor in his father’s hands. He’d aged ten years in the last twenty minutes. It was all too familiar. “Why are you doing it, Dad? Why are you putting yourself through this again?”
His father lifted his head. “What are you talking about?”
“You and Liz. The wedding. It’s going to happen all over again. You’ll have to stand by and watch her slowly fade away, and there won’t be a goddamn thing you can do to stop it. One day you’ll wake up and she’ll be gone. And then what? How long will it take you to recover this time? I’ll tell you. You won’t. Nothing will take away the pain.”
“Liz doesn’t have cancer, son. It’s not the same.”
“You weren’t there. You didn’t see her lying unconscious in a puddle of coffee.” He’d thought she was dead. She’d looked like his mom the night she’d slipped away. Like Kate lying in the hospital bed with the baby swaddled in a pink blanket beside her. “Please, for me, just think about it. What’s the rush? You don’t have to get married right away.”
“I love her. I want to marry her.” His father rubbed his palms on his chinos. “Does this have something to do with your mother? Because, Chance, my love for Liz doesn’t take away from what I had with Anna. I loved your mother. I always will. Same as Liz will always love Deacon.”
“You know what, do what you want. But you and I both know there’s only one way this will play out. Either you or Liz will have to live that nightmare all over again. And from what I saw today, it’s going to be you.”
Someone cleared their throat. Chance looked up to see Trainer at the door of the waiting room. “Paul, you can see Liz now. She’s in room 217.”
“You admitted her?” Chase then turned to his father, who stood and headed for the door. “I thought you said she was okay.”
Trainer’s brow furrowed as he looked from Chance to Paul. “She is. We’re keeping her overnight as a precaution.”
“A precaution, right.” There was nothing left for him to say. His dad was a big boy. If he wanted to open himself up to a shitload of pain, there was nothing Chance could do to stop him.
* * *
Chance pretended to be absorbed in an article about summer fashion trends, tossing the magazine on the empty chair beside him when his dad returned to the now-crowded waiting room. If possible, he looked worse than when he’d left the waiting room thirty minutes ago. Gage and Ethan broke off the conversation they were having by the window. Madison, Skye, Cat, and Nell looked up from where they sat against the opposite wall. They’d arrived a couple of minutes after his father had gone in to see Liz.
“Dad.” Madison went to Paul and wrapped her arms around his waist. “How are you holding up? Chance said Liz is okay.”
Paul patted Madison’s back, looking over her head to meet Chance’s gaze. Something was wrong.
“Can we see her?” Cat asked, her eyes red-rimmed. She’d been emotional when she’d first arrived. Chance supposed he hadn’t helped matters when he tore into the lot of them for being too busy to give Liz a hand. But it needed to be said.
His father drew back from Madison and rubbed the back of his neck. “You might want to give her a few minutes, honey.”
Ethan put his arm around his sister. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s…” His father cleared his throat. “Liz canceled the wedding.”
Chance relaxed in the plastic chair. That was the best goddamn news he’d heard in months.
“Why? What happened?” everyone asked at once. Everyone except Chance.
“I suggested we postpone the wedding until she felt better. Chance and I were talking about it earlier, and he got me thinking. All the—”
A redhead in green scrubs poked her head into the room. “Dr. McBride, your patient is here.” She looked around the room. “Do you want me to cancel?”
“No, that’s fine, Karen. I’ll be right there.” He turned back to them. “When you go in to see Liz, don’t pressure her about the wedding. She doesn’t need the added stress right now. Nell, that goes double for you.”
* * *
Vivi had a crying Evie on one hip, a crying Connor on the other. “Did you find their binkies, girls?” she yelled, bouncing the babies faster when they cried louder.
“Not yet,” Lily and Annie shouted back.
“Let’s sing a song. Do you want Auntie to sing you a song?” She started singing “Let it Go” from Frozen. She’d watched the movie three times with Lily and had the words down pat. Connor threw back his head and wailed. Oh, good God. “Okay, no singing. We’ll dance. Let’s dance.” She shook her hips, dipping the babies up and down. “Isn’t this fun?” she said breathlessly, wiping her sweaty forehead on Connor’s head.
At the sound of feminine laughter, she spun around. “Thank God,” she said when Skye and Maddie walked into the nursery. They retrieved their children, who instantly stopped crying.
Vivi sagged against the crib. “They hate me.”
Skye laughed. “No, I think you may have scared them with your dance moves.”
Maddie grinned, cuddling Connor to her chest. “No, I think it was her singing that did it. She sounds like a man. It probably confused them.”
“You’re both a riot. We lost their stupid sucky-things. You need to tie them around their necks.” She eyed her two friends. “So, tell me, how’s Liz?” Maddie and Skye shared a look. “Spill.”
“Liz is okay, but Liz and Paul are not. She called off the wedding,” Skye said, laying a giggling Evie down on the change table.
“Are you kidding me? What happened?”
“Your boyfriend,” Maddie said, sitting in the rocking chair with a cooing Connor.
“Chance?” She gave a frustrated shake of her head when Maddie grinned. “He’s not my boyfriend. Would you just tell me what happened?”
“Chance doesn’t want them to get married, and he must have shared that with Dad. When he went in to see Liz, Dad suggested they postpone the wedding until she’s feeling better. Liz got it into her head that he was looking for an excuse to get out of marrying her and called him on it.” Maddie sighed. “It’s a mess.”
“It is,” Skye agreed. “Ethan and Cat are steamed at Chance.”
“Gage isn’t happy with him, either. It’s a good thing Chance left the hospital when he did.”
“Now, wait a minute. How did Chance end up being the bad guy in this? Liz is the one who decided to cancel the wedding. You know how she reacts when Paul worries about her health. It’s always been a hot-button issue with them.”
“You’re right. And I feel sorry for Chance. I think it was hard for him being there when Liz passed out. He laid into all of us.” Skye picked up Evie, who chewed happily on the string of her mother’s pink hoodie. “For a guy who everyone thinks isn’t fond of Liz, he was pretty protective of her.”
Maddie rose from the rocker with a sleeping Connor in her arms. “I feel bad for him, too. Gage thinks being at the hospital brought back memories of the night Kate and the baby died, and it had something to do with what he said to Dad. They’ll sort it out. They’re calling a family meeting when Liz gets out of the hospital tomorrow.”
Chance didn’t seem to be able to go anywhere in Christmas without being blindsided by memories of Kate and the baby. Vivi didn’t like to think of him being alone. “Did he go back to the cabin?”
“No, Ted and Fred texted Nell just before we left the hospital. They said he’s at the Penalty Box. Gage’ll stop by and check on him on his way home.”
“I’ll go,” Vivi said, keeping her voice casually indifferent. “It’s just down the road from the apartment anyway.”
Skye’s eyebrows drew inward. “What are you talking about?”
“She ditched us and moved into Grace’s apartment.”
“I didn’t ditch you guys, Maddie. Tell the truth, it’s easier without me here. Besides, now that the wedding is off, I’ll probably catch an earlier flight home.”
“No way. You promised to stay the week,” Maddie protested.
“Yeah, we need more time to… ah…” Skye widened her eyes at Maddie, nudging her head in Vivi’s direction.
“Give it up. I’m not moving to Christmas.”
“Aw, come on. You miss us as much as we miss you. And it’s not as though you love your job,” Skye said.
“Of course I miss you guys. But while I may not love my current job, I don’t plan on being Dear Vivi for much longer. I’m getting my old job back.”
“What about Matt?” Maddie asked as she tucked Connor into his crib. “You didn’t tell us how your date went. He’d be a good reason for you to move to town.”
“He’s a nice guy.”
“No sparks, huh?” Skye said as they left the nursery.
“Nope, not a one.” She held up the car keys, anxious to get to the Penalty Box. “I’m going to take off. You sure you’re okay with me using your car, Maddie?”
“No problem. If Chance is in a bad way, you’ll call, right?”
“What’s wrong with Uncle Chance?” Lily asked, looking up from where she lay in front of the TV with her sister.
“Nothing. He just—”
Vivi cut off Maddie. She didn’t want little Miss Tenderheart worrying about her uncle. “Hey, what gives? You two were supposed to be looking for the binkies. A lot of help you were.” They grinned, and she kissed them good-bye. “See you tomorrow.”
As Vivi headed for the door, she heard Maddie and Skye strategizing on ways to keep her in Christmas. They were getting as bad as Nell. Vivi wondered if she should be worried.
* * *
Vivi spotted Chance as soon as she walked into the Penalty Box. He sat at the bar with his back to her, talking to Natalee. An uneasy feeling came over her at the expression on Natalee’s face. It was one Vivi suspected she’d worn herself when looking at the man. No, couldn’t be. Natalee was too young, and more importantly, the man she was looking at with her heart in her eyes was her late sister’s husband.
Laughing at something Chance said, Natalee lifted her head and caught sight of Vivi. The light immediately left her golden-brown eyes, and her fingers curled possessively around Chance’s impressive bicep. Natalee didn’t look so young and sisterly now. She looked like a woman staking her claim. And her hand dropped dejectedly to her side when Chance swiveled on the bar stool with a relieved smile spreading across his face when he saw Vivi. As soon as she got close enough, he hauled her between his legs. “Wondered when you’d show up,” he said, resting his hand on her hip while his heavy-lidded gaze focused on her mouth.
Good God. Not again. “Hey, Natalee,” she said, reminding him he had an audience. Shifting on her wedge sandals, Natalee played with the silver locket at her neck and gave Vivi a thin-lipped smile. From their previous encounters, Vivi imagined any further attempts at conversation would be a waste of time and returned her attention to Chance. “How much have you had to drink?” she asked as he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger.
“A couple.” Behind him, Sawyer held up five fingers. Wonderful.
His gaze still on her mouth, Chance said, “Figured I’d crash at your place tonight.”
Before Vivi could tell him that was not going to happen, Natalee said, “I can drive you home after my shift. You can’t leave Princess alone all night.”
Unraveling Vivi’s hair from his finger, he gave the strands a gentle tug before glancing at Natalee. “She’s with the neighbors. Pest control came today. I didn’t want her to get sick. You better get back to work, kiddo.”
He turned to Vivi with a grin when she muttered, “I knew you had rats.”
Natalee stared at them with an unhappy look on her
face, only moving when her boss called out, “Nat, drinks are up.” Sawyer lifted his gaze to Vivi while loading Natalee’s tray. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll take a Coke, thanks.” She went to step from between Chance’s thighs, sighing when he tightened all that warm, hard muscle around her.
He leaned into her and sniffed. “Hate to tell you this, Slick, but you smell like puke.”
She glanced down at the mark on her T-shirt; she should’ve changed before coming. “It is puke. Connor’s puke, and possibly Evie’s, too.” She grabbed a napkin, wiping futilely at the stain.
“Let me do that for you,” he offered in a lazy voice. But there was nothing lazy in the way his eyes tracked her hand or the way he brushed his beer bottle over her chest. Despite the cold from the frosted glass seeping into her skin, her body heated when he raised his gaze to hers.
“Got it covered,” she said, wriggling from between his legs. She took the stool beside him, her body humming from his touch and the promise in his grass-green eyes.
Sawyer slid a tall glass in front of her. “Thanks.” She took a long swallow, sagging against the high back of the leather bar stool.
Chance’s mouth tipped up at the corner. “Kids wear you out?”
She nodded. “I got a better workout than going to the gym. I didn’t know babies could cry that long or that loud. They’re in love with those sucky-things. Next time, I’m taping them to their faces.”
He smoothed his hand down her hair. “You’re cute.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Nah, it’ll take another dozen to accomplish that.” He took a pull on his beer, his gaze intent on the mirrored shelves behind the bar, taking in everything going on behind him. She’d seen him do that before. His easy, laid-back demeanor was an act. He was always on alert, hyperaware. His occupational hazard, she supposed. It was a much sexier occupational hazard than hers. With Chance, she’d always felt safe and protected.
