Second Chances with St. Nick

2. Fairy Lights and Freefalls

2

FAIRY LIGHTS AND FREEFALLS

T he A-frame ladder creaked under me as I shifted position. Who knew hanging fairy lights could be so challenging? Dad always made it look easy.

Cissy wanted her wedding reception at our house. She’d picked a winter wonderland theme. The spaghetti of wires currently wound around my arms didn’t bode well. So far, my efforts made the deck look less like a winter wonderland and more like Frosty the Snowman went rogue with a staple gun.

Working alone outside turned out to be nice, though. Mom and I were already on hair-triggers around each other. I bit my tongue for the most part. I didn’t want any fights to upset my cousin’s special day. She was the nearest thing I had to a sibling.

I stretched toward the eaves of the deck, the sturdiest-looking part of the roof. Just within reach, the spot provided the perfect anchor for my decorations. Mariah Carey belted out her Christmas hits on my air pods and I hummed along. Not that I could even vaguely hold a tune, but it was Christmas. Singing with Ms. Carey was obligatory.

Taking a breath, I leaned into the void, totally overextending. The ladder wobbled under my feet. Perhaps my gingerbread and M&M’s assault last night had already taken effect on my waistline.

“Crap!” I hissed, waiting for the ladder to still. Once it did, I turned into my shoulder to nudge up the cuff of my woolen hat. It’d already descended to my brows, creating a light veil of hair across my eyes.With every movement, it slipped down another half inch.

The A-frame stabilized beneath me, and I toyed with the idea of climbing down and moving it closer to the eaves. It’d be the sensible thing to do, but with limited time before dark and the prospect of a lecture from Mom on the correct way to drape tinsel, I decided against it.

Instead, I stretched out again. Mariah sang her last melodious note, leaving me in silence, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t reach my target. With a grunt, I leaned as far as I dared, but according to gravity, I badly miscalculated my agility and my core strength.

As I overextended once more, the ladder wobbled anew. Only this time, far harder. Clamping my bottom lip between my teeth, I engaged whatever abs I had, just as a low, husky voice sounded from somewhere below.

“Be careful.”

I sucked in a breath and jerked my head around. When I did, my beanie slipped even further over my nose, completely blocking my vision. Yay! Great time to come down with a case of yarn-blindness.

I didn’t recognize the man’s voice, exactly, but something about it—something about the way the speaker held onto his vowels—sparked a memory, and my heart ticked up a beat.

I moved my feet on the rung of the ladder to get my footing. Without a secure handhold on the A-frame, my knit-one-purl-one mask disoriented me. I had no idea where I was in space. With every movement, the wooden frame creaked louder. I must’ve looked like an idiot, playing a game of blind man’s buff for one, but even my flailing arms couldn’t save me.

The ladder wobbled wildly, and I shuffled on the top rung, letting out a whimper. “Oh, no…”

The millisecond those words left my mouth, the ladder gave one final lurch, and I pitched backward, leaving my heart and breath somewhere above me.

I sailed through the crisp air, sending a prayer to St. Joseph of Cupertino, patron saint of acrobats, for a soft landing. After what felt like forever, my body met a pair of arms, and I landed with an awkward thud against something solid and warm. An amazing aroma of cinnamon and pine tickled at my nose and the tiniest growl made my toes curl.

Whoever was down below had caught me, and as I lay cradled against hard muscles, a warm breath hit my cheek, and whispered words met my ear. “I’ve got you.”

The intonation and the accent sent another tingle of recognition across the back of my neck. I had to see who’d broken my fall. Meet the man who owned that voice. Unable to use my fairy light-clad arms, I jerked my head, trying to nudge my hat back to its proper place. Having no luck, I shook my head instead, but I only drove the wool even lower.

“Hold still,” the man said. After a heartbeat, the angle of my body shifted, and my feet kicked through thin air as my savior slowly lowered me to the deck. My boots met with solid wood, and I ran my hands over the chest I’d so soundly hit just seconds ago. Holy crap, it was hard. Big and hard and…

“You okay?” the man asked.

I nodded like a half-wit as his words dripped over me like warm honey. I was perfectly fine, but that didn’t mean I wanted to move. To break the spell his proximity cast over me.

A throaty chuckle resonated in the air, and I bit my bottom lip. Warm hands grasped my shoulders as the man turned me around to face him.

“Let me help.”

I shut my eyes tight. Light filtered through my closed eyelids and the touch of wool moved across my forehead.

“There,” he said. “Hey, Abbie.”

I sucked in a shuddering breath and steeled myself to open my lashes and meet my rescuer.

His face came into focus—high, sharp cheekbones and a thick beard hugging a square chin. A woolen hat sat low over his dark blond hair and his familiar hazel eyes, flecked with amber, raked over my face. They caught the light as the corner of his lips lifted a fraction.

“Nick?”

He didn’t move, didn’t say a word. Instead, he stared at me for the longest beat. Then a small furrow appeared between his brows and his hint of a smile disappeared. I steadied my breath and controlled the trembling of my fingers against his chest.

I blinked twice. My fingers against his chest?

Hold up. I was touching his chest!

Not just that. I was gripping onto him like someone had glued my hands to his flannel shirt. Like he was my last hope as I succumbed to quicksand.

With a sharp intake of breath, I dropped my arms to my sides and stepped away. My bunch of lights fell to the floor and heat fired on my cheeks. “What are you doing here?” And why did my voice sound so squeaky?

He moved his head back, nodding toward an old, gray truck parked in the driveway. An enormous bundle of holly lay tethered to the flatbed. Damn Mariah. Nick must have driven up while she noisily decided what she wanted for Christmas in my ears.

“Cissy ordered greenery.”

I stared hard at him. Was that it? Three words? I didn’t expect a big hug and a, “Welcome back. All is forgiven,” but I didn’t remember Nick being so quiet. So gruff. As I ran my gaze over his massive shoulders, my breath thinned. There was nothing familiar about the giant of a man standing before me.

Sure, Nick had been tall. But he’d also been on the skinny side. He played the violin growing up, preferring to practice than play sports. He hadn’t grown the muscles that some boys had in school. But man, he’d made up for lost time.

“But why are you bringing holly?” I asked.

He shrugged and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “It grows on the mountain. That’s where I live now.”

My gaze moved to the gray and green range that formed the backdrop to the town of Pine Springs. Today, thick white clouds blanketed their peaks. “You live up there?”

I’m not sure why I was so surprised. From what Cissy said last night, no one had seen much of Nick lately. She said he kept himself to himself. I’d been out of town for so long, for all I knew, he could live in a cave with Yogi Bear.

Nick turned his head toward the mountains. Bronzed skin stretched over his corded neck, just above the collar of his shirt. I had the strangest urge to touch him. Feel his warmth under my fingertips.

A shiver ran over me, and I hugged my arms around my body.

“You’re cold,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Did he mean metaphorically or literally? Either would be accurate, I guess. But the status of my body temperature didn’t matter. This was my first opportunity to speak to Nick in forever.

I brought my eyes to meet his, sending him a half smile. He didn’t smile back, and my gut pulled. “Nick,” I said, reaching out to touch his arm.

He drew back and opened his mouth to speak, but another voice cut through the chilly air.

“Nicholas!”

My shoulders sagged. Mom. I’d never have a chance to speak in private with him now. My mother had a reputation for lacking tact or the ability to read an awkward social situation. Couldn’t she see I was trying to apologize?

“It’s lovely to see you after so long. And you brought the holly. I’m sure Abbie can give you a hand unloading it.”

Nick shuffled on his feet, his boots scuffing the wood beneath us. “No need. I wouldn’t want her to get prickly. Those leaves can sting.”

I tightened my eyes, running them over his face.

“Well, no matter,” Mom said. “I’ve just made some hot chocolate. Come in and have a cup. You look half frozen.”

I smiled at Mom, but she didn’t reciprocate. Apparently, she wasn’t concerned with my body temperature. Just Nick’s. I couldn’t blame her. He had a fine body.

The wooden boards creaked under her feet, and Nick glanced at her before looking back at me. His face remained impassive. What was running through his head? I counted five breaths before he lowered his eyes.

“That’d be nice, Mrs. Cooper. Thank you,” he said, his voice soft and lilting.

The apples of Mom’s cheeks lifted high. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he just proposed to her. Or she found out she won a lifetime supply of laundry detergent.

“Then come on in,” she said, beckoning Nick to follow her.

He turned and walked toward the front door. As he moved, he left the scent of cinnamon and pine lingering in the air. I breathed him in, my gaze following the wall of his back as he dipped inside the house.

Nick was really here. In my family home. This could be the first time he’d visited in years, and we were about to sit down for a civil cup of hot chocolate in the kitchen.

Butterflies danced in my tummy. Deep down, hadn’t I wanted to see him? Have the opportunity to say sorry. To find out what he’d been up to and if he’d missed me as much as I’d missed him?

I trailed Nick and Mom into the house, hoping they couldn’t hear my heart racing. To me, it sounded as loud as a herd of reindeer hopped up on double espressos. Mom’s tinkling laugh bit through the icy air, and the hair on the back of my neck prickled. I pushed out a breath. Something told me I was in for a little more than hot chocolate.