Mistletoe Magic (Evergreen Lake: Under the Mistletoe)

Chapter 11

eleven

HOLLY

Chris had outdone himself.

As someone who claimed to be allergic to the holidays, the man had gone above and beyond. Moving the tree in the middle of the night just to put a smile on a little girl’s face had pushed me over the edge. Chris was a good man. I could see it. Where he’d scrounged up a box of chocolates and a jasmine scented candle had me mystified. Chris didn’t seem like a candle type of a guy. As much as he told me he wasn’t into the holidays, I could see how much Christmas meant to him, if only he’d admit it.

“Look, Mom!” Noelle squealed, tossing away the wrapping paper and holding up the doll she’d been begging for since her birthday four months ago.

“Wow! You’re very lucky,” I reminded her.

“Santa must’ve gotten my letter.”

“I’m sure he did,” I assured her, remembering the letter in question that was still tucked away in the back of my drawer at home.

“Chris, do you want to see?” Noelle offered, holding up the box .

I fell silent. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do. So far, he’d not missed a beat when it came to making this special for Noelle, but Chris didn’t seem like the kind of guy who played with dolls and got excited that they came with two different outfits and ten different accessories.

“Absolutely,” he faked excitement, setting down the blanket he was folding and dropping it onto the couch.

I watched silently as Noelle scooted over and plopped herself down beside him, before regaling him about everything you could do with her doll and everything she came with.

“How ‘bout I grab some scissors and we open her up?” Chris offered.

Noelle squealed and handed him the box, practically vibrating.

Half an hour later, and I was craving coffee, but my heart was full. The room was buried under multicolored wrapping paper but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that Noelle didn’t get the Christmas I’d planned. It didn’t matter that she didn’t get all the gifts that were wrapped with her name on them that I knew would be piled up at the lodge. All that mattered right now was the smile on her face as she sat with Chris, playing with her doll, telling him all the reasons that she was the coolest doll in the world. And Chris, bless his heart, was lapping up every second.

“Mom,” Noelle turned to me.

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“I’m hungry. Can we have breakfast now?”

Before I could answer, Chris intercepted the question. “I’ve got an idea,” he piped up and grabbed my attention. “Why don’t we let Mom go upstairs and have a hot shower, and I’ll grab the box of Lucky Charms and bring them back down here? That way we can have breakfast where it’s warm. ”

Chris was already on his feet stoking the fire and looking at me for an answer.

“A hot shower really does sound good,” I replied, rubbing my arms, already imagining the hot water.

“Lucky Charms it is!” Chris declared, shooting me a wink.

Noelle stood up and came over to where I was sitting before crawling into my lap. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” I asked as she snuggled against me.

“I’m not allowed to have Lucky Charms you said,” Noelle whispered.

She was right. At home, we didn’t have sugary cereals. I mean, I wasn’t some kind of weird mom who only fed her daughter healthy shit. She was a six-year-old and I wanted her to be a six-year-old even if that meant eating sugar, but we didn’t have it for every meal.

I adjusted her in my lap, her bony bum digging into me. “Well, since it’s Christmas and we’re stuck in a storm and can’t have pancakes, I think Lucky Charms is fine.”

“Really?” Noelle squealed.

“Really,” I assured her, touching my finger to the tip of her nose before she scrambled off and ran over to Chris who was watching tentatively from beside the fire.

“Mom said I can have them!” she told him.

I pushed to my feet, ignoring the shiver that went through my body. Last night I’d been cold, but when Chris crept into the bed beside me, I immediately felt warmer. And I don’t think it was just from his furnace body heat either. I’d have to be dead to not see how sexy the guy was. Between the tattoos across his chest, the muscles in his arms, muscles built from doing manual labor, I imagined, not by spending hours in the gym staring at himself in the mirror. But it was more than physical that had my hormones fluttering. Hormones that hadn’t fluttered in a long, long time. It was how he was with Noelle. Watching him embrace something that obviously made him uncomfortable and not once complain. It was the little things that made him hard to resist. And that was before I felt his hardness pressed against my ass this morning.

Pushing aside my lusty feelings and thinking about the cold shower I needed, I suggested that Noelle come with me upstairs and get changed when Chris asked why.

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do we have to get out of our pajamas?” he asked.

“Because it’s daytime?” I replied, wondering why I was pointing out the obvious.

“Yeah so? It’s Christmas Day which means everything is closed. There’s a blizzard out there, so we’re not going anywhere anytime soon. There’s no power, so we’re basically going to spend the day hanging out in here, trying to stay warm.”

The man had a point.

Chris folded his arms across his chest and my sense of reason flew out the window.

“You make a good point,” I acknowledged.

“Of course I do.”

“And you’re staying in your pajamas all day?” I asked. If I was staying in my sweats, then he better be staying in his.

“Absolutely. Although I can’t remember the last time I’d done it.”

Noelle tugged on Chris’s hand. “Come on Chris. I’m starving,” she whined dramatically.

“Noelle,” I chided, shooting her a look. One she recognized instantly and dropped her hold on him.

“Sorry, Mom,” she murmured under her breath, staring at her shoes.

“Come on. We’ll head upstairs and have a shower then we’ll look into breakfast,” I offered, reaching my own hand out for her, waiting for her to take it.

Leaving Chris stoking the fire, I led Noelle up the icy stairs slowly. This holiday had already been a cluster fuck, wasting hours in the hospital wasn’t at the top of my to-do list for the day.

I managed to get Noelle in the shower while I found a clean pair of sweats. I know we said we’d stay in our pajamas, but warm sweats were enough of a compromise. Noelle was singing, possibly the worst rendition of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer I’d ever heard, but she was taking this like a champ. I was waiting for the tantrum and tears about not being able to go skiing or drink hot chocolate or build a snowman like my father had promised, but so far, they hadn’t come. She’d gone with the flow and all I could do was hold my breath and hope it stayed that way.

Grabbing a towel, I walked into the bathroom and helped her out, bundling her up against the cold.

“Mom, I’m cold,” she told me as her teeth chattered.

“Let’s get you dressed, and you’ll be fine,” I assured her, leading her back into Chris's bedroom and picking up the pile of clothes from the bed.

A few minutes later, Noelle was dressed and chatting away happily. While she talked a million miles an hour, I cleaned my teeth and washed my face.

“Are you having a shower, Mom?”

“In a minute,” I told her as I dug through my bag looking for the ibuprofen I thought I’d tossed in. I had a headache, and I couldn’t tell if it was from stress, dehydration, or lack of sleep. More than likely a combination of all three, if I was being honest.

Finding the packet, I popped two out onto my hand and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water .

“Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie,” I replied, swallowing down the pills and turning to find Noelle standing in the living room staring out the window.

The snow was still coming down hard. Everything, as far as your eye could see, was covered in a thick layer of snow. The cars on the street were buried, and the tree branches drooped under the weight.

“Why does Chris hate Christmas?”

Noelle’s question shocked me. I took another sip of my drink before rinsing the glass and sitting it on the sink. I was stalling. Trying to find the words.

I walked over and sat on the couch, beckoning Noelle to sit beside me. “I don’t think he hates Christmas, Noelle,” I began.

“Then why didn’t he have a tree?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You need a tree at Christmas. Otherwise, how will Santa know where to put the presents?” Noelle’s innocence had me hugging her to my chest. I never wanted my little girl to grow up. Growing up meant facing the world and learning that it wasn’t all unicorns and rainbows. I wanted to shield her innocence and prolong the dreamer as long as I possibly could.

“I’m not sure. Maybe Chris didn’t put up his tree this year because he was waiting for you to come and help him,” I suggested.

“I’m the best at decorating!” Noelle declared, and the heaviness was lifted. “I wish we could make cookies. I want to decorate them.”

“Not today.” I leaned in and pressed my lips to Noelle’s head breathing in her shampoo. “Go grab your brush and I’ll do your hair.”

Ten minutes and more than a dozen arguments later, Noelle’s hair was braided and she was back to complaining about being hungry.

“Put this back in your bag, and I’ll find breakfast.” I handed her the brush and rose from the couch.

I was standing in front of the overflowing, unorganized pantry grinning. Chris had gone shopping yesterday and from the sight in front of me, he’d bought one of everything. The size of the jar of peanut butter would probably last him a year, I know it would in our house.

With a whoosh, the door opened, and a blast of icy wind came through as Chris stepped inside, dusting the snow from his hair.

“It hasn’t eased up at all,” he commented, shutting the door tightly.

“I hope it doesn’t last too much longer,” I replied.

“Why? Are you sick of being stuck here with me?”

He asked the question and although his tone was casual, there was something behind it. Something I couldn’t place but wanted to know more about.

“I think it’s more you’re stuck with us. Surely, we’re cramping your style,” I countered.

“Style? You think I have style?” he teased, and I caught myself looking him up and down.

He wore heavy boots, a pair of gray sweats, and a flannel jacket. His eyes were full of mischief and his hair was damp.

“I was just looking for the Lucky Charms,” I admitted, dodging his question.

Chris moved into the kitchen and stood beside me. I could smell the smoke from the fire on his clothes mixed with the scent of grease. As he reached across in front of me, the warmth from his body made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I couldn’t understand. What was it about this man that was driving me crazy? And more importantly, how did I make it stop? The last thing I needed to do right now was to develop a silly little crush on the guy who was quite literally saving us from sleeping in our car and freezing to death. No matter how sexy he was, or how patient he was with Noelle. No. I had to stow these hormones and just get through this.

“They’re right here,” he commented, pulling the box from the cupboard right in front of me.

“Thanks.”

I took the box from his hand, careful to avoid touching his fingers. While I gathered bowls, Chris took the milk from the fridge.

“I’ll take Noelle downstairs and get her started on breakfast if you want to shower,” I offered, taking a step back and putting distance between us.

“Or …”

“Or?”

“Or I can take Noelle downstairs and you can jump in the shower,” Chris offered. This man was beyond helpful.

“It’s fine. I can do it.”

“Not saying you can’t. You just don’t have to. Let me help you.”

“I … I …”

“You’re not used to that, are you? Not used to letting anyone help you. Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Chris commented with a smile, and while he smiled, I soothed the sting. He didn’t mean anything by it, I knew that, but it still hurt. It wasn’t that I didn’t want someone to help me, I just didn’t have anyone. Dad offered to hire someone, but I didn’t want that. Someone paid to like spending time with Noelle, no thank you. I only wanted people in our lives that wanted to be there. And that meant spending my nights alone, curled up on the couch reading about epic romances and pretending that my very own book boyfriend was out there somewhere waiting for me, too .

“You know, Holly,” Chris began, taking the breakfast things from my hands. “It’s okay to let people help you now and again,” he told me.

“People let you down,” I mumbled my confession.

“I’m not people,” Chris replied quickly before turning and talking to Noelle.

I stood there and watched them go. Chris made sure Noelle was bundled up for the short walk down the stairs. With his jacket draped over her shoulders, it hung to her ankles and looked like a dress, but I knew she’d be warm. And safe. There was something about Chris that assured me he’d protect her.

When the door clicked closed, I let out a sigh and leaned against the counter. Everything was topsy-turvy, and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do.

After a moment, I shook off my confusion and headed into the bathroom. I stripped off, hoping the hot water would wash away the feelings that were tipping me off-balance.