by M. F. Lorson
Baker squeezed my hand as we worked our way toward the group. “We loaded it in Miami, just for tonight. They won’t light it till after the carolers finish.”
I cringed involuntarily. Christmas and all of its symptoms still left a bad taste in my mouth.
“Did you always hate the holidays?” he asked, reading my expression.
I thought back to the Christmases before last year, when I’d looked forward to shopping with family, Christmas concerts in the park, and watching the same bad movies year after year.
“No,” I answered truthfully. “But I think that just makes it harder,”
Baker shook his head. “Then why let him take that from you? So last year was a bad memory. Make better ones.”
What I couldn’t say was that last year’s bad memory was preceded by half a decade of good ones, all shared with the same person.
Instead, I turned the question on him.“Like you’re doing?” I asked, thinking about what Cecile had told me about Christmas Valley.
I expected him to flinch. Instead, his lips quirked up into a smile that made my breath catch.
“This is a good start,” he replied, running his thumb over the palm of my hand.
The glow of the lanterns were burning little gold specs in the center of his dark eyes and try as I might, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say in response.
“We should grab a drink.” said Baker, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.
I nodded and followed him up to the beachside shack, turned bar. The bartender, in his red Wonder Cruise emblazoned apron, winked at Baker as he handed us each a glass of hot whiskey and honey.
“Don’t you have to actually work?” I asked, realizing for the first time since I opened my cabin door, that Baker wasn’t wearing any Wonder attire.
“I made a deal with Cecile,” he replied. “I get tonight, in exchange for hosting all of her open mic night sessions for the next three cruises.”
Ouch, Kathy and I had stepped into an afternoon open mic our second day on the ship. We lasted less than ten minutes. I could not imagine staying for the whole hour, let alone hosting multiple.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I replied. “Not that I don’t appreciate it. I just, I want you to know I recognize the sacrifice.”
“Except I did have to,” said Baker, his eyes lingering on the water in front of us. We had strayed down the beach, putting distance between us and the rest of the passengers.
“This is our last night together. I didn’t want to waste it passing out hors d’oeuvres and hosting Christmas themed limbo contests.”
“How do you want to spend it?” I dared.
The sand was damp and firm beneath our feet as we moved along the waterline.
“I wasn’t one hundred percent honest with you when I said that I had to be here,” admitted Baker. “The truth is, home doesn’t feel much like home for me either.”
“I see,” I said, choosing not to divulge that I had figured out as much already.
Baker stopped walking and let go of my hand. “I’ve been looking for ways to forget about what happened back home for going on two years. With you, it’s easy. You make me laugh, Emily Hart. If there are moments to be had with you, then I want them.”
His expression was a mixture of expectation and fear. I knew there was a good chance I would regret kissing him, but I knew with one hundred percent certainty that I would regret not kissing him more. So I reached my hand up to rest on his jawline and drew his face toward mine.
“I want them too,” I whispered, my lips inches from his. “This one above all others.”
There was no pause between us. His lips crashed into mine, with all the ferocity of the waves in front of us. He slid his hands from my waist to my back, pressing me closer and causing me to forget anything and everything I hated about the holidays. I knew right away that I was done for. How could there ever be a Christmas when I didn’t think about this kiss?
Chapter Eleven
“We can’t leave this beach,” I said as the ship's second horn blew, warning us it was time to reboard.
Baker grinned, resting his forehead against mine. We had been sitting on the shore, watching the waves collide under the moon for the better part of an hour.
“We could become island people. Live off of coconuts, ‘til we learn to fish. Fight the locals to stake our claim. I’m willing but…”
“But?”
“I find it hard to believe Kathy will let the ship leave without you.”
I looked across the beach to where Kathy and her Secret Santa stood, arms crossed and waiting.
“She’s very needy.”
“You love it,” laughed Baker. “Come on.”
Reluctantly I allowed him to pull me up from the sand. We met up with Kathy on the dock as we lined up to reboard the ship with the other passengers.
“Thought you were staying in tonight,” she tittered, nudging me in the ribs with her elbow.
“So did I,” I replied, stealing a glance at Baker.
When we reached the elevator that led to Snow Globe City, Kathy and her Secret Santa, Marcus, exchanged a look.
“We’re going to head down to the hotel bar for a nightcap,” she said. “You’re welcome to join us. Or not.” She sent a wink in Baker’s direction then leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Tell me everything later. Everything.”
Baker pressed the button to call the elevator down.
“If we were teenagers, this would be a good opportunity to make out,” I offered as the large metal doors opened in front of us. Baker slid his staff key into the elevator control panel and turned the switch to off.
“I’m willing to pretend,” he said, drawing me to him by the wrist.
I didn’t respond, couldn’t respond really, because his lips were closing in on mine, and it felt nothing like kissing an inanimate object.
“I like kissing you,” I mumbled when the two of us finally pulled apart. “But I feel like we should get off this elevator before I get you in trouble.”
Baker followed my eyes to the door, where half a dozen buttons were lighting up from passengers attempting to call the elevator.
“You’re probably right,” he said with a sigh, then turned his key and hit the button for floor number four.
Outside of cabin 406, I stared at the tiny replica of Arches National Park, not wanting to meet his eye. We barely knew each other and already it felt like I was walking away from something too big to measure.
“I’m going to call you,” he promised, running his hand along the edge of my chin. “Often,” he tilted my head so I couldn’t look away. “Whenever I have service.”
“So not that often,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood. The entire week I had been operating on one bar or less.
“Often,” he reminded, before kissing me gently.
A good girl would have taken that goodnight kiss as goodbye, but in the interest of the Holiday spirit I opted to put at least one naughty mark on my record, and shut the door to cabin 406 with Mr. Holiday Shorts himself, waiting on my cabin bed.
Epilogue
I considered not saying goodbye to Baker at all. What was I supposed to say? Thanks for being an absolute dreamboat? I’m super upset we live in different parts of the country? It seemed impossible, but I didn’t want to be one of those girls Cecile described. A week on a boat with a cute boy was not all Baker was to me. So for once, I knocked on his door. He was packing his little black rolling luggage when I stepped inside his cabin. I thought about the first time I saw him.
“You know,” I said, not sure how to begin the conversation, “the first time I met you, I thought you looked like Prince Eric from The Little Mermaid.”
“I get that a lot,” said Baker.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“No!” cried Baker, shaking his head, “People do not compare me to cartoon characters often.”
“A cute one, though,” I offered. “Maybe the cutest Disney prince of all t
ime,”
Baker patted the spot on his bed beside him. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, ignoring my awkward attempt at flattery. “When you get off this boat, you should call your mother.”
“Call my mother?” I cried incredulously. “Are you trying to destroy all the lovely forgetting I’ve managed to do this week?”
He placed his hand over mine. “Call your mother and tell her you don’t want him at Christmas next year. Let her know you don’t hope for him back, and she shouldn’t either.”
I bit my bottom lip. “I suppose I could, now that it isn’t a lie,” I said, looking up to meet his eyes. “You should go home, too, you know.”
Baker took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about that as well.”
“And?”
“And I think it’s time for me to admit that Christmas Valley isn’t home anymore.”
I smiled, liking that idea a lot. “And where will your new home be?” I asked. It was totally ridiculous to hope for a spot near me, but that was exactly what I was doing.
“I can’t promise you a happily ever after that big, even if I do look like the cutest Disney prince of all time,” said Baker, doing an impression of my voice so poorly that I wanted to smack him and kiss him at the same time.
“But, I am contracted for six month’s worth of Wonder Cruises, all of which leave from Miami. I am interested in seeing where this goes if you are?” He said, studying my face nervously.
I probably should have reacted like a responsible adult, but I’d never been very good at that, so I wrapped my arms around his neck and knocked him over with the force of my embrace.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, laughter behind his eyes.
“So much, yes,” I whispered. “So much, yes.”
Our cruise ended much the way it began, with Baker and the rest of the Wonder Cruise dancing their way through a goodbye number I found both embarrassing and delightful.
Saying goodbye to Kathy proved harder than I would have thought possible. She cried, I cried, the bathroom attendant at brunch cried. We promised to call, but it felt like leaving summer camp all over again. You just never knew when one of those week-long besties was going to ghost you once you weren’t forced to hang out anymore.
When I took the cruise voucher, I figured I would come home with a tan, a week’s worth of hangovers, and probably some pretty cheesy pictures from the ship photographer. A boyfriend and the confidence I had been missing for a year, was quite a bit more than I had hoped for.
Once I had loaded my bags into the trunk and settled in the front seat of my car, I pulled my phone from my purse and dialed Mom. She would no doubt have a lot of questions, but for once, I was excited to answer them.
Also by M.F. Lorson
The Squad Goals series:
Hot by Halloween
Nerdy by New Year
Promised by Prom
The Dear Molly series:
Seeking Jake Ryan
Dumping Dallas Winston
Catching Johnny Castle
Sway
Off Center
Stage Kiss
The Exchange series
The Exchange
The Travelers
The Hunter’s Daughter
Delinquent
About M.F. Lorson
M.F. Lorson is the Director of a public library in eastern Oregon. When she isn’t writing, she’s reading, mostly The Wheels On the Bus, over and over again to her two littles.
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