Holly Lane (Destiny, Ohio)

by Toni Blake

  He wasn’t good with kids, but he’d at least spent enough time around Sophie to start feeling comfortable with her. She was a lot like her mother—direct, determined, and a little sassy at times. And since they were both stuck waiting—hell, rather than park his ass in a chair by himself, he figured it made more sense to go hang out with her.

  “What’s up?” he asked, approaching the tree.

  “Santa’s bringing me a reindeer for Christmas,” she replied, peering up at him with a bright-eyed grin as she got to her feet.

  Huh. He hadn’t seen that coming. Had Adam Becker been stupid enough to promise her that? “Really?”

  “Well, he said he’d try.”

  “Oh.” Okay, that was better. But changing the subject seemed like a good idea anyway. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

  “The baby Jesus,” she said, then reached to touch a rustic wooden ornament that he guessed was supposed to be Jesus in a cradle. “When I grow up, I’m gonna have lots of babies.”

  Crap. Another subject that just wasn’t a good one for him. “That’s . . . nice, I guess.” Okay, maybe it was easier being comfortable with her when they had a cat to play with or a tree to trim.

  “How come you and Aunt Jenny don’t have babies?”

  Holy hell. “Well . . . um, not everybody has babies.”

  “Why not? I want lots of little kids so they can always have lots of fun together. Don’t you like kids?”

  Oh God. He felt like a jerk. What now? “I like you,” he said.

  And she gave him a small smile. “I like you, too.” Then she raised her hand and held his. Just held it. Like that was the natural, normal thing to do.

  Mick was struck by how tiny her hand was, and how soft. It was hard to believe there’d been a time when his own had been that small. And he was sure there’d been plenty of occasions when he’d wished he had someone to hold onto, times when he’d been lonely or afraid when his parents were fighting. Sometimes his older brother, Wayne, had been there for him, trying to make him feel safe—but other times it had been only him, cowering in a corner, feeling like some scared, wounded animal.

  So now, he found himself giving Sophie’s little hand a small, gentle squeeze, hoping it somehow made her feel a little safer. And something inside him went warm, the sensation literally climbing up his arm and spreading outward through his body. It made him feel . . . a little frightened himself in a way—vulnerable maybe. But mostly it filled him with a powerful urge to protect her, take care of her, make sure she was all right.

  It didn’t make much sense—she had plenty of people in her life closer to her than him, people whose job it was to make sure she was okay. And as far as he knew, most of those people were doing their part on that, so it wasn’t as if Sophie really needed him or anything.

  But even so, he found himself squeezing her hand again, and then—on impulse—stooping down to face her. He wasn’t sure what was driving him—just more of that unexplained urge—as he said, “You know if you ever need anything, I’m here, right?”

  She tilted her blond head, looking slightly surprised, then said, “Okay.”

  Then he immediately felt the need to lighten what he’d just turned so serious. “I mean . . . you want a play date with Trouble, I’m your guy—I can hook you up.”

  And when a tiny burst of laugher erupted from her throat, he smiled at her, and everything felt normal again. “So, any cat ornaments on this tree?” he asked.

  She nodded enthusiastically. “There’s a white angel cat over here,” she said, pointing, “with a silver halo.”

  “Will you show me?”

  “Sure,” she said, and taking his much bigger hand in hers once more, she led him to the other side of the tree, where they talked more about cats and Christmas decorations, the things that came easier to Mick with her. But it occurred to him then that maybe, now, everything would be different, easier, between him and Sophie. Just from this little moment they’d shared.

  And when Jenny and Sue Ann finally stood and walked over to the tree a few minutes later, Mick—weirdly—was almost sorry to see Sophie go. “See ya, kiddo,” he said in parting, even mussing her hair before Sue Ann slid a brightly colored winter hat onto it as they headed for the door.

  “Ready?” he asked Jenny after they were gone.

  “Almost,” she said.

  So he cast a mildly wicked look in her direction, just to let her know what he was thinking about. Talking to Sophie hadn’t made him forget what he wanted to do with his wife when they got home. “Almost? ’Cause me, I’m ready to roll. I’ve got plans for you.”

  She bit her lip, offering up a slightly-innocent-yet-sexy expression that made him go hard. “You were sweet with Sophie. I saw you holding her hand.”

  He just shrugged. “Only being nice. She just looked a little lonely, that’s all.”

  “Watching you with her gave me this feeling,” she began, suddenly seeming more serious than sexy, “this feeling that . . . I’ve been having a lot the last week or so.”

  And something in Mick’s chest tightened, but he wasn’t sure why. “Um, what feeling?”

  “The feeling of . . .” She stopped then, swallowing visibly, nervously.

  Which made Mick a little nervous, too. Normally, he would urge her to go on, try to put her at ease. But right now, he didn’t—because he wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to hear what she was thinking. Only then he heard it anyway.

  “The feeling that I want to have a baby, Mick,” she said. “With you. I want us to have a baby, a family.”

  He just looked at her, instantly frozen, as all the blood drained from his face. Shit.

  This was . . . this was completely out of the blue.

  Because she knew, she understood, how he felt about that. And up to now, they’d had . . . well, a pretty damn perfect marriage in his opinion. And he hadn’t expected that to change—he was wild about her, she was wild about him, and they wanted the same kind of life. But what she’d just said . . . it meant that suddenly she didn’t want the same life he did. How had this happened?

  “Did . . . you hear me?” she asked, her expression cautious now.

  He wished he hadn’t. Because he felt a little sick. “Jenny,” he finally began, “you know—you’ve always known—how I feel about that. And you agreed that was okay with you.”

  “I know I did,” she said, but her eyes . . . in them he saw a yearning he’d never seen before, something sweet and desperate that clawed at his heart.

  “And . . . we don’t even know if we can have a baby,” he pointed out. Jenny had never gotten pregnant during her first marriage, and she’d not felt strongly enough—at least then—to look into the reasons why.

  “But maybe I can,” she said. “And maybe if we just tried to . . . well, if I didn’t get pregnant, then we’d know it wasn’t meant to be. But if I did, it would be like . . . fate. Destiny.”

  Mick just looked at his wife. He loved her with all his heart. She had . . . saved him, in so many ways. She had given him a life, and a love, he’d never even hoped to have. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

  And yet . . . she’d assured him she understood how he felt about being a parent. His own parents had been walking nightmares. He didn’t have the faintest idea of how to be a parent, a good parent, and he’d never experienced the desire to have kids.

  Hell, hadn’t he just been thinking about how uncomfortable he generally felt around children? A guy like him . . . no, it just didn’t make sense. You couldn’t force what you didn’t feel. And he already knew it wasn’t meant to be, without trying to get Jenny pregnant.

  The beginning of their relationship had been rough—really rough. But after that, it had been smooth as silk. And now, for the first time since they’d worked through all those early problems, he felt a little bit like . . . like he didn’t know her. And like, just as in the beginning, he was about to let her down. But he couldn’t figure a way around it—he could only tell her the truth
.

  “Jenny,” he said, the muscles in his chest stretched so tight now he feared they might snap, “I’m sorry. But I can’t do that. I can’t have a baby with you.”

  As Sue Ann drove home, Elvis sang “Blue Christmas” on the radio and she replayed in her head the conversation she’d just had with Jenny.

  “It was agonizing,” she’d told Jen, feeling an actual physical pull in her heart. She’d been talking about avoiding Adam’s kiss. Even while he’d been wearing that silly Santa beard, it had been one of the hardest things she could ever remember doing, resisting. And she was still enduring that same gnawing want even now.

  Jenny had shaken her head and said, “I just don’t get it. I know you’ve only been divorced a little while, but I still think Adam is exactly what you need right now.” She’d sounded downright exasperated. “Why won’t you let yourself have fun with him?”

  But the answer remained the same as before. It was simple. “Because I’m afraid to trust him.”

  “I still don’t get it,” Jenny had said. “Because if he’s as crazy about you as it seems, he’s not going to help Jeff in any way that would hurt you. I mean, he’s Adam, for heaven’s sake.”

  Yeah, good guy Adam. Mr. I-always-do-the-right-thing Adam. Jenny was thinking of the Adam they’d always known. But, again, she wasn’t aware of Adam’s dalliance at that wedding when he’d still been married to Sheila. And it wasn’t that Sue Ann thought he’d cheat on her—it was simply that, right now, she just wasn’t sure if any man could be counted on. She’d counted on Jeff and he’d let her down. And Adam had proven, at least once, that he wasn’t infallible, either. And how could she possibly get involved with someone who might soon testify against her in a court of law?

  She knew no one—well, Jenny and Adam—thought of it that way, as testifying against her. But if he testified for Jeff, it was against her. He’d be choosing sides. At the very least, he’d be helping Jeff increase her hardship. And at the worst, her daughter’s custody could end up at risk. And yeah, that last part probably wouldn’t happen, but what if it did?

  “You don’t really think Santa will bring me a reindeer, do you?” Sophie asked her then, her sweet but skeptical voice echoing from the backseat and shaking Sue Ann from her reverie.

  Sue Ann just let out a sigh. She really did understand why Adam had told Sophie he’d try to get her a reindeer—she knew he’d been put on the spot—but the fact was, now, on top of everything else, her little girl was going to be severely disappointed come Christmas morning.

  “Well,” she finally said, “I just think that maybe . . . you shouldn’t get your hopes up. Santa said he would try, right? That’s different than a promise. So maybe you shouldn’t count on it. And I’m sure if Santa can’t come through on the reindeer that he’ll bring you lots of other nice things.” Like the stuffed reindeer she had picked up for Sophie today at the toy store in Crestview, somehow hoping that would be enough. After tonight, though, that stuffed deer had some big hooves to fill.

  “I know all that,” Sophie replied very stoically from the darkness behind Sue Ann, “but I’m not worried. He’s going to bring me my reindeer. I just know it.”

  Sue Ann had wanted that kiss as badly as he had—Adam knew it to the marrow of his bones. He still suffered the stirring desire to bring his body together with hers just thinking about it, remembering that moment when her soft lips had been so close to his . . . and yet so far away.

  A few days had passed since then—it was Tuesday afternoon now and he worked in the tree lot outside the landscape supply. Christmas was only a week and a half away, so he’d watched the offerings in the lot grow thinner, yet they’d stayed busy, too, since some people waited until right about now to put up their live trees. And in one sense, he was glad he had plenty to occupy his mind—but in another, he felt weirdly as if he’d been moving through life in a fog.

  His time these last couple of days had been spent in one of three ways: thinking about Sue Ann, remembering their hot nights together, and wishing—hoping—there could be more. Thinking about his boys and wishing they were here at home with him. Or snapping at people.

  By now, Chuck Whaley seemed almost afraid to be in his presence—and Adam guessed he couldn’t blame the guy. He’d yelled at Chuck more in the past two weeks than in the entire time they’d known each other. And Tyler Fleet no longer even made eye contact with him. He probably seemed like some kind of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He’d taken the time to explain that missing his boys had him in a crappy mood, but he guessed that after the third or fourth time, no one really cared, if they kept having to put up with it. And, of course, the situation with Sue Ann was adding to his rotten disposition, too—but that was no one’s business.

  Now, having decided maybe it was better to let Chuck and Tyler deal with the customers today, Adam had isolated himself in the lot, quieter this afternoon than normal, consolidating the remaining trees into one central area to free up more parking space. It felt good to start breaking down the now-empty stands of nailed-together two-by-fours where trees had leaned until they’d sold—the task required a little muscle, some physical labor, and as he worked he could even feel some tension beginning to leave his arms and shoulders.

  A few minutes later, as he used a push broom to sweep up fallen needles and bark, it began to snow. Damn, what was it with all the snow this year already? The temperatures had stayed around freezing or below since Thanksgiving, so while the roads and most lots had been cleared, the ground remained blanketed with white. And now it looked like another fresh coating was on the way.

  If it accumulated, it would mean a late night or possibly an early morning of plowing parking lots with one of the company trucks. And though he was thankful for work that helped fill the winter months, he didn’t usually have to do so much of it until after Christmas.

  Aw well—again, better to stay busy. The busier he was, the sooner this Christmas would be over and his kids would be home and he could put this cruddy mood behind him once and for all.

  But quit kidding yourself, Becker. Yeah, having Jacob and Joey back would definitely improve that part of his life—yet he knew he’d still be wishing things were different with Sue Ann. When his Grinchiness had started, it had been all about the boys—and, as Sue Ann had made him see—his regrets. But now he was forced to realize that even when the boys came home, he wasn’t going to feel completely better. Nope, not by a long shot. He was still going to want her. And if her response to his near-kiss the other night was any indication, he wasn’t going to have her.

  And it wasn’t just about sex. With Sue Ann, he wanted the whole package. From the pushy, know-it-all mom-about-town to the sweeter, more vulnerable woman he’d seen since Jeff’s departure. From the girl next door to the lover who soaked up every pleasure she could.

  Shit. This thing with her—it really wasn’t going away. Yeah, he’d kind of known that by the time he’d delivered her tree, and he’d known it even more after what had happened between them in his truck—but damn. When had he gotten this caught up in her?

  But then . . . the when didn’t matter so much as the fact he couldn’t run away from: The longer this wanting stretched out, the more powerful it became.

  It had seemed so simple back in that cabin when she’d said they should forget about what had happened between them. Even if he hadn’t necessarily liked it, it had sounded easy enough to accomplish. But now, as fluffy snow began to cover the very ground he swept, he experienced that familiar, pervasive, almost agonizing ache you got when you . . . fell for someone.

  That was when he had to stop—stop sweeping, catch his breath, rest slightly against his broom. I’ve completely fallen for Sue Ann. How the hell did I let this happen?

  And how did it get so screwed up so fast? After all, things were officially awkward between them right now. Plus she’d just gotten divorced from his best friend. And despite what they’d shared that night in the truck, it was pretty clear she wasn’t interested in a
relationship with him.

  And he had to accept that, abide by her wishes. Didn’t he? Because he understood how badly Jeff had wounded her, and in the big picture of their lives, it had only happened like . . . yesterday.

  Adam sighed, then looked to the sky as if seeking an answer—but all he found there was the blank white slate of a snowy winter day, thick flakes now wetting his face.

  Yet . . . could there be some way to win her over, to make her forget or look beyond her reasons for pushing him away?

  And then something hit him, something new. The first time he’d kissed her, as a kid, he’d been dressed up as Joseph for the nativity play at school. The first time he’d flirted with her, just a couple of weeks ago, he’d been behind a big, stuffed reindeer head. And on Wednesday night when he’d tried to kiss her, he’d been in a Santa suit. So it seemed like he was always making moves on Sue Ann when he was . . . somebody else. Not on purpose—but it just worked out that way sometimes. Yet in the cabin, and in the truck—the times things had gotten really good with her—he’d been just . . . himself. For better or worse.

  So maybe that was the key—just being real with her. Could be that those masks made it a little easier sometimes, easier to get flirty and make a play. But they’d known each other all their lives, and if there was anyone he should be able to be his real self with—whether that was his normal self or his Scroogy self or something in between—it should be Sue Ann. So if he did that from now on, maybe . . . something good would happen. Maybe.

  Just then, Adam looked up to see an SUV rumbling into the parking lot, leaving wet tracks in the thin covering of new snow. Jeff’s SUV. Damn. What timing.

  Six or seven months ago, he’d have been happy to see Jeff—they’d been best friends since high school, the best man in each other’s weddings. But since his breakup with Sue Ann, things just hadn’t felt the same. And now the guy showed up right when Adam was plotting how to win his ex-wife’s affections?