A Firehouse Christmas Baby

by Teri Wilson

  Actually, calling it a wine bar was a bit of a stretch. Uncorked operated out of the local bookstore. During the day, the bar at Pages on Main served fruit smoothies, but after dark, the bookshop dimmed its lights, set candles in mason jars all along the bar and offered a modest selection of wines and cheeses—all of which were from vineyards and cheese farms local to Vermont, of course. Felicity had never tasted anything so delicious, not even in Manhattan. Then again, her tastes had definitely been evolving lately.

  “It’s a good thing Jack interrupted us before we did something we might regret.” She forced a smile and stacked a generous slice of Vermont peppered white cheddar atop a cracker.

  Madison drained her glass and pushed it toward the bartender/bookseller for another pour. “You’re a terrible liar.”

  “Who says I’m lying?”

  “Come on.” Madison gave Felicity a once-over. “You seriously asked me to come drink wine and eat cheese with you because you’re glad you and Wade didn’t kiss?”

  Well, when she put it that way...

  “Fine. I wanted to kiss him, okay?” Felicity plunked her glass down onto the bar’s smooth service and glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot. After all, tonight was one of the off-nights for the Christmas festival. Otherwise, Felicity would probably be dressed as a Biblical character right about now.

  The store was almost empty, though, save for a few people browsing the cozy mystery section. Felicity and Madison had the entire bar to themselves.

  “I’m just saying it’s a good thing we didn’t. Wade and I can’t go around kissing each other. It would just complicate things, especially with Nick,” Felicity said.

  “Or not. Jack and I kiss all the time, and we have two babies at home.” Madison held up two fingers for emphasis.

  But both of those babies belong to you...and so does Jack.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter, anyway. When Wade came home from the station tonight, it was like nothing ever happened.” Granted, that might have been Felicity’s fault. She’d done her level best to act like everything was normal when he’d come through the door, even though his very presence had made her weak in the knees.

  And then she’d done what she always did when she got scared. She’d fled.

  She’d told Wade that Nick was already down for the night, and then she’d grabbed her purse and headed straight for Main Street without any sort of plan whatsoever. As usual, Madison had come to her rescue, suggesting they meet at Uncorked after Felicity’s half a dozen panicked text messages.

  “This is fun, though, isn’t it? We haven’t had a real girls’ night in ages.” Madison smiled, but the soft glimmer of her eyes went bittersweet.

  Felicity pretended not to notice that her best friend felt sorry for her. Of course she felt that way. Felicity had gone and developed feelings for the man everyone in town was already head over heels in love with. She wasn’t the only woman in Lovestruck who wanted Wade to kiss her. That particular list was longer than Santa’s naughty-and-nice roster. If Felicity wasn’t careful, she was going to start greeting him at the door with covered dishes full of King Ranch chicken and tuna noodle au gratin.

  It’s finally happened. I’ve become one of them. Felicity took a gulp of wine. I’m a casserole queen.

  As if she could read Felicity’s mind, Madison gasped in horror. “Oh, no!”

  “Don’t say it.” Felicity held up a hand. She was going to need more wine for this conversation. More, as in all of it. All of the wine. Every last drop.

  But Madison had switched gears already. She wasn’t talking about Wade, apparently. Every bit of her attention was aimed squarely at Felicity’s handbag, resting on the bar just an arm’s length away.

  “Your Birkin!” Madison pointed at the bite marks Duchess’s eager little teeth had left in the smooth bubblegum-pink leather. “What happened?”

  Felicity barely glanced at the bag. “Oh, that.”

  Madison gaped at her as if her dismissive response was the equivalent of fashion blasphemy. Probably because it was.

  “Duchess tried to eat it,” she said.

  “And you’re not upset?” Madison reached for the bag and stroked it with the utmost care, as if it were an injured kitten.

  “Of course, but...” Felicity’s voice drifted off as she realized she wasn’t entirely sure what she was trying to say.

  Her Birkin bag was her pride and joy—the one enduring trophy she still had to show for all the hard work she’d done at Fashionista. All the money she’d managed to save had been poured into the yoga studio, and look where that had gotten her. Even her fancy beauty products were starting to run low—again, thanks to Duchess.

  But she couldn’t seem to muster much indignation over her French shampoo anymore. And she’d almost forgotten entirely about the bag. How was that possible?

  “It just doesn’t seem all that important anymore,” she finally said.

  “Wow.” Madison blinked. “Pardon me while I drain my glass as I try to absorb what you just said.”

  Felicity laughed, and it felt so good to let go of some of the emotions she’d been trying to hold on to for so long. She wasn’t any closer to knowing what to do about the studio and Brad Walker’s offer than she’d been a few hours ago, but she felt a tiny bit better than when she’d sent her panicked text to Madison.

  Felicity moved a fingertip in a slow circle along the rim of her wineglass. The Frontenac was clearly going to her head. Why else would she suddenly not care about the destruction of her most valuable possession?

  Because you’ve found something that matters more. Two somethings, in particular. Wade and Nick.

  She made another cheese-and-cracker sandwich and sat on the bar stool beside Madison, sipping wine and laughing until the stars glittered against the velvety Vermont sky. Just because she was ready to admit her feelings about Wade to herself didn’t mean she was ready to confess them to him. No way. Just...no.

  She just needed to wait things out. Surely it would pass. She just had a crush, that’s all. She couldn’t actually be falling in love with Wade Ericson.

  Felicity breathed a sigh of relief when she tiptoed back inside Wade’s quiet little cottage. All the lights were out, save for the dreamy glow of the Christmas tree. Nick was sleeping soundly, and Wade had already gone to bed, just as she’d hoped.

  But as she made her way to the guest room, she spotted a wrapped package sitting in the center of the coffee table. Wade’s video game consoles were nowhere to be seen. The twinkling red-and-green lights from the tree moved over the gift’s shiny gold paper in a kaleidoscope of colors. Her heart thumped hard as she read the note taped to the top of the present.

  For Felicity,

  I’m sorry...for everything.

  Wade.

  Chapter Twelve

  Felicity knew she should probably wait to open Wade’s gift on Christmas morning—or Christmas Eve, at least. When she was a little girl, her family had strict rules about such things. She and her siblings were allowed to open one gift each on Christmas Eve. On Christmas Day, the living room was always a minefield of torn wrapping paper, discarded ribbon and upended boxes. It was a tradition so deeply ingrained in Felicity’s consciousness that, at first, she picked up the prettily wrapped present fully intending to place it beneath the tree.

  But once it was in her hands, she couldn’t quite bring herself to let go of it. After all, Wade could have placed it on the tree skirt himself if he’d wanted her to wait and open it on Christmas. And the note he’d attached to it fully indicated it was an apology gift. For better or worse, she was convinced.

  Within a matter of seconds, she was sitting on the sofa, surrounded by crumpled gold wrapping. She gingerly peeled back layer upon a layer of delicate tissue paper to reveal a beautiful leather handbag.

  It was pale pink, the exact shade of a puff of cotton can
dy. There was no fancy designer label, but the bag had an embossed stamp near the top, with traces of gold leafing. Felicity could just make out the word Firenze. She turned the bag over in her hands and took a peek inside, heart hammering hard in her chest. Clearly the purse was vintage, but she couldn’t imagine where Wade could have possibly found something like it here in Lovestruck. With its supple leather and exquisite ballet-pink hue, it seemed like something that would be found in one of the Florentine markets she’d so much read about on the pages of Fashionista. They’d done a story once on the Mercato Nuovo in Florence, where leather merchants had been selling their wares beneath a grand loggia since the Renaissance. The photographs of the colorful stalls, as bright and varied as a jumbo box of crayons, had taken Felicity’s breath away.

  She ran her fingertips over the bag, taking in the impossible softness of the pale pink leather until a nearby snuffling sound pulled her out of her trance.

  “Oh.” Felicity glanced down at Duchess, sitting politely at her feet. “You.”

  The spaniel blinked up at Felicity with her big brown eyes and then pawed at her shin like she always did to Wade.

  “What? Are you suggesting some sort of truce, or are you already eyeballing my new bag?” Felicity did her best to sound stern but caved and bent down to pet one of Duchess’s soft ears. “Don’t even think about it. I’m serious.”

  The little dog licked Felicity’s hand.

  Ugh, why did she have to be so adorable? And sweet? It was really hard to stay mad at an animal that was basically the canine version of a marshmallow, naughty streak and all.

  “Fine. You can come up here with me, but don’t you dare touch the bag. Got it?”

  Duchess jumped onto the sofa, dug at the tissue paper until she’d managed to move it out of the way and then plopped into Felicity’s lap. Within seconds, her soft, tiny body was rising and falling in a relaxed, sleepy rhythm.

  Felicity leaned over as slowly as possible and placed her new handbag on the coffee table, safely out of the dog’s reach. She might be a pushover, but she’d definitely learned her lesson.

  Then she leaned back against the sofa cushions and ran her hand slowly over Duchess’s furry little head while she looked at her gift in the soft glow of the Christmas lights. A lump made its way to her throat. This bag was far more special than her Birkin. It was bag with a story behind it. It had meant something to someone once—someone who’d treated it with tender loving care.

  And now it was hers.

  My, my, Wade Ericson. She brushed a tear from the corner of her eye. Thank goodness she’d opened his present in private. If Wade thought she’d been silly for getting upset when Duchess left bite marks on her Birkin, he’d probably mock her endlessly for crying over a vintage bag. You’ve surprised me once again.

  * * *

  The sound of Nick’s soft cries coming through the baby monitor woke Wade up right around three in the morning, just like clockwork.

  He rolled onto his back and scrubbed his face with his hands, readying himself to stumble out of bed and prepare a bottle for Nick. Within seconds, he realized something was missing—namely, the warm ball of fur that typically liked to make itself at home on his pillow, butting his head so far out of the way that he often woke with a crick in his neck.

  He opened his eyes. Duchess wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

  Wade groaned and untangled himself from his bedsheets, wondering what sort of trouble the dog had gotten herself into this time around. He hoped she hadn’t snuck into Felicity’s room again. He’d done the best he could to replace the Birkin. He didn’t know what he was going to do if he had another fashion casualty on his hands.

  Nick let out another whimper, so Wade dashed to the baby’s room first. The night-light clicked on as he entered, and he changed Nick’s diaper in the semi-darkness while the infant kicked his chubby little legs. He’d gotten so much stronger in the days since he’d been dropped at the fire station. So much happier.

  The tiny furrow in Nick’s brow had all but disappeared. Wade knew he was just a newborn and couldn’t possibly be aware of what exactly he’d been through at such an early age—and for that, Wade was immensely grateful. But he still couldn’t help but sense that Nick’s easy expression and the way he melted into Wade and Felicity’s arms every time one of them held him meant that he was no longer fighting for a place in this world. Was it possible that he somehow knew he’d landed in a place where he was loved and wanted?

  Wade hoped so. God, how he hoped.

  “Hungry, little man?” Wade nestled the infant against his shoulder and breathed in his tender, baby powder scent as he made his way quietly toward the kitchen.

  The Christmas tree was still aglow when he reached the living room, which surprised him. He’d left it on so Felicity wouldn’t come home to a dark house, but as a firefighter, he was pretty fanatical about turning the tree lights off when everyone went to bed. Felicity teased him sometimes about being so safety conscious, but she felt the same way—especially where Nick was concerned. She watched over him with such intensity that it was almost as if she expected him to vanish into thin air.

  The house was so quiet. Worry bloomed in Wade’s chest. Had Felicity not made it home?

  But just as his adrenaline spiked, he caught sight of her handbag on the coffee table, unwrapped and placed just so, as if it were some kind of precious centerpiece.

  A warm sensation took over the panicked ache that had formed behind his sternum as his gaze shifted to the couch. Felicity sat nestled in the corner of sofa cushions with her legs tucked beside her. Her head was tipped back, eyes closed, and her lush blond hair fanned around her lovely face like a halo. Wade had never seen such a beautiful sleeping woman, but the thing that most struck him about the sweet sight of her sleeping in the twinkling light of the Christmas tree was the dog curled into a tight ball behind the tender curve of her knees.

  As usual, Duchess was snoring at a volume so loud it defied belief—a sure sign she was content. Wade couldn’t help but smile. The two most important females in his life were finally getting along.

  “It looks like you’ve been forgiven,” he said, and Duchess’s ears twitched ever so slightly. “I guess that makes one of us.”

  Wade knew better, though. Felicity wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. But he didn’t want to be a roommate she tolerated. He knew that now. He’d probably known as much all along, but now he was aware of little else. All he could seem to think about was the fact that she might walk away from her yoga studio. From Lovestruck. From me.

  Nick’s downy little head rested against Wade’s shoulder, and Wade wished he hadn’t made such an idiot out of himself at the Bean. He had no business being angry at Brad Walker. He didn’t even want to be mad at his father anymore. If anyone was holding him back from the life he truly wanted, it was Wade himself.

  No more, he thought.

  Time was running out. Wasn’t that the way it always went during the holidays? They seemed to pass in a whirl of frosted peppermint and tinsel. When Wade was a kid, Christmas Eve had been his favorite day of the year. A sense of melancholy always clung to Christmas Day, because once the presents beneath the tree had been unwrapped and the wreaths came down from Lovestruck’s wide front porches, it meant the most joyful time of the year was officially over.

  He was an adult now, obviously. It had been years since Wade had thought about Christmas that way. Except this year, he’d become overly aware of every passing minute. Today, especially. And now, seeing Felicity and Duchess curled up together on the sofa made him realize the truth. He’d never be ready for this holiday season to end. This is what he wanted. Felicity, Nick and Duchess, all three of them here with him... forever. If his mom’s headstrong little dog could let her guard down, maybe Wade finally could, too.

  Felicity’s eyelashes fluttered open while he was still standing there, bouncing little Nick i
n his arms. She gave him a slow smile that built as they looked at one another and the lights from the Christmas tree glittered around them like starlight. Wade’s throat grew thick with all the things he wanted to tell her. They hadn’t even kissed yet, and he wanted to ask her to stay. How could he ask her to be a family when they’d never even kissed? It seemed insane.

  Then again, he and Felicity had always done things backward. How did the old rhyme go? First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage.

  He let out a quiet laugh. They’d started at the finish line, and here he was, yearning to ask her for a new beginning. A real one this time, and as permanent as Christmas itself.

  “What are you smiling at?” Felicity said quietly, eyes shining in the darkness.

  “You look beautiful,” he whispered.

  Her lips curved into a bashful smile, then she reached for the pink purse and held it close to her chest. “I can’t believe you did this. It’s gorgeous. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, as Nick’s tiny fingers closed around one of his ears.

  “You didn’t have to. I mean, I know I was a little upset when Duchess tried to eat my Birkin...”

  Wade arched a brow.

  Felicity winced. “Okay, a lot upset.”

  Wade flashed her a wink, but then he felt his smile fade. He didn’t want to hide behind flirty banter anymore. For once in his life, he wanted to be real and open with a woman. Now, before it was too late.

  He glanced at Duchess, still tucked fast asleep beside Felicity, and a stab of envy pierced his heart. How much easier would things be if all he had to do was lie down next to Felicity to let her know what he was thinking and feeling? Whatever was happening between them was too important for that, though. She deserved more. They both did.

  “I wasn’t just apologizing for the handbag, you know,” he said, rocking gently from one foot to the other and patting Nick’s narrow back.

  “Sit.” Felicity shifted, scooting over to make room for him on the sofa, and patted the cushion beside her. “Can I hold him for a minute?”