That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe (Abieville Love Stories #4)

Chapter 47

Chapter Forty-Seven

Sara

I’ve heard reports that freezing is surprisingly painless. Peaceful, even. Emily Dickinson, my favorite poet, writes about the feeling being something like a strange kind of contentment. Still as stone. Quartz, specifically. First the chill. Then the stupor. Then the letting go.

For me, plunging into Abie Lake is none of those things.

Instead of peace, there are needles. Thousands of them—no, millions—stabbing every inch of my body. A throb that steals all the air from my lungs. I gasp and gasp, but I can’t catch my breath. Still, my hands instinctively scramble. Grasping. Flailing. During one desperate lunge, I snatch at Three’s boot—at least I think it’s a boot. And for a moment, I manage to latch on to an edge of ice, too. But my gloves are too slippery. So I kick and buck, like a fish on a line. The thing is, fish don’t have skates, and they aren’t wearing layers of heavy clothing intended to keep people warm. My jacket and pants are gulping up water, weighing me down .

Surrender is tempting. A swifter end to the stinging. But Three calls out for me to hold on.

“I can’t lose you,” he shouts. “I can’t lose you!”

Over and over.

He can’t lose me .

So I won’t give up.

Not that a person always has a choice in the matter. Some losses are beyond anyone’s control. Cruel illness. Random accidents. Old age. Nobody’s fault. So I try to hold on. Really I do. But the stupor slides in anyway.

Don’t let go , I hear above me.

A heart-shattering command.

Then only darkness closing in as Three hauls me from the water.

The next stretch of time is more like a twilight sleep. I don’t know that I ever fully lost consciousness, but waking up fully doesn’t sound appealing either. Not when the absolute numbness gives way to nonstop prickling of my skin, and I can’t generate any real movements on my own. I’m a soaked rag doll. Heavy and limp. Three lays me gently by the couch, and my teeth chatter and my bones quake—a clatter of noises and sensations alerting us both to how close this call was.

The pain of it all makes me moan.

I’m so weak and chilled, I barely register heat from the fire Three rushes to build. Or the moment he peels off my sodden clothes, stripping me down to a sports bra and underwear. Before any modesty floods in, he’s already wrapping me in a blanket. And when he pulls me into his arms, cradling my body to his chest, I press myself against him, absorbing the warmth of his skin.

When did he take off his jacket and shirt?

It doesn’t matter. His heat is what I need. All that I want.

“You’re all right, you’re all right, you’re all right,” Three whispers into my hair, his breath a promise of life against the freeze. Over and over. “You’re all right.”

I try to speak, but my tongue is too thick and slow. All I manage is a sigh. His response is a quiet, “Shhh. It’s okay, Sara. Just relax. You did it, my sweet girl. You did it.”

I did it?

What did I do?

It doesn’t matter.

You’re his sweet girl .

“I’ve got you, Sara.” His heart pounds against my cheek—a jackhammer of emotion—and he draws me even more tightly to him, like he’s trying to suck me inside his body to speed up the thawing. As we rock together in the silence, he rubs my legs through the soft wool, probably trying to jumpstart my circulation. When I finally stop quivering, my limbs melted into his, Three pulls another blanket from the back of the couch and around me. Then he begins to disentangle himself, but I clutch at him, clawing to keep him close.

“No.”

“Sara.” He pulls away from me gently. “I need to call for help.”

“Don’t leave me,” I groan. My lips vibrate against the sheen of his bare skin.

“But—”

“Just keep holding me.” I snuggle more deeply into his embrace. “You’re the one making me feel better right now. I don’t need a doctor. Or an ambulance. Or anyone else. I just want to stay like this. Here. Now. With you.” I try lifting my chin to look into his eyes. But I can’t bend my neck enough from this angle, so I give up and drop my head back down onto his chest.

A low rumble of protest sounds in his throat. “You know, when you beaned me with that fire extinguisher, I didn’t want to go to the hospital either. But you and Ford ganged up and forced me to go. ”

“So did Kenny.” I snake an arm around his back, all the better to cling to him.

“Exactly. I was ambushed.”

“And I’m not sorry about it.”

As the warmth from both the fire and Three’s body seeps through me, I start to imagine how different things would’ve been if Three hadn’t gone to the hospital. The doctor wouldn’t have told him he couldn’t get on an airplane. He might’ve flown to California that same night. He could be on the cruise right now, and I’d be here alone. Not frozen, not at risk of having my heart broken again.

But there would be no popcorn strands on the Christmas tree.

There would be no Christmas tree in the first place.

No Henry out front.

No white lights along the bookshelves.

No turkey leftovers in the fridge.

No cake for my birthday.

“If you stay with me, I’ll be fine,” I mumble into his hot skin. “I’m just a little … cold.” My body trembles even as the words come out. “See? That shaking is just my systems bringing myself back to normal.”

“Your systems?”

“Nervous. Sympathetic. Para … para-something.”

“Huh.” Three rests his chin on my head and tightens his grip on me. “Even frozen, you’re still presenting arguments like a lawyer.”

“My particular set of skills.” I try to laugh, but the sound is closer to a mouse squeaking.

Three’s quiet for at least a full minute, holding me in his arms. He brushes a damp strand of hair off my face, and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “If that’s what you want,” he says at last. “We can just stay here. Together. For now. But you have to be okay, Sara. You just have to be okay.”

“I will.” I nod against him, his heartbeat a soft pulse on my cheek.

“I’m so, so sorry.” His voice goes gravelly on the apology, and a pang of sympathy cuts through me. He’s probably feeling just as guilty as I did after giving him a concussion.

“It’s not your fault,” I whisper.

But maybe it’s mine .

Because I think a part of me offered to come to Abieville because I wanted to run into Three. A secret part buried deep down inside that packed my favorite green dress. Sure, I told myself I’d avoid him like the plague, and when Bristol questioned my wisdom, I swore I’d get in and out of town unscathed. Now here I am, lying in Three’s arms, at the risk of being totally, completely … scathed .

But the truth is, I feel more whole now than I ever have.

And more in love.

I meant those words a decade ago, and ten years of time hasn’t snuffed the flame. My feeling simply lay dormant, waiting for this reconnection that must be meant to be. Because in all this time, no other relationship has ever come close to us . I thought the walls I built around my heart were to keep me safe from the potential pain of other men. But now I know what I was really doing was saving my heart for him.

“I’m going to tell my parents tomorrow,” I say, slowly, the words muffled by his skin.

“About falling in the lake?”

“No.” I swallow hard. “About you.”

Three exhales a long gust of breath. “You think that’s a good idea?”

“I need them to know everything that’s happened here. Not just over these past few days, but ten years ago too. Are you okay with that?”

There’s a beat of quiet. Then he says, “Am I okay with your mom and dad finding out I overheard their plans to confront you and keep us apart? And that I ended up hurting you to avoid that? Sure. But also tell them that’s why I got my act together. Got my degree. Got my career. I honestly owe them a debt of gratitude, although I didn’t know it at the time.”

“I’m not sure we have to go that far,” I say softly. “We both got pretty hurt.”

“But that was my choice, not theirs. And hopefully who I am now will be good enough for them.”

I lift my head to press a light kiss to his chest, and goose bumps rise along his skin. “You don’t have to be enough for my parents,” I tell him. “Because you’re enough for me.”

The echo of a groan moves under his ribs. “That doesn’t change our situation, though.”

“We don’t have to figure that out tonight.”

“So.” He reaches for my hand. “What should we do instead?”

I shift in his arms, and he gently tips my face up to kiss me. And despite our body heat and the warmth of the fire, we both shiver.

For a while, we stay just like that, Three cradling me in his arms while my body learns to self-regulate again. Then, even though he’s the one who’s supposed to be taking it easy, Three gets busy taking care of me like he’s been doing it his whole life.

First, he collects dry clothes for me up in my room, then he warms us up some leftovers which we eat by the fire. After doing the dishes, he even organizes the cake and pie taste-test.

My pie wins.

But it’s slightly possible he threw the competition.

Once the food’s all been devoured and the dishes are washed and dried, Three makes us a nest of pillows and blankets on the floor of the living room. That’s so we can watch Home Alon e on the brand new flat-screen. Three recites almost every line, and I gleefully cheer him on. It’s his favorite Christmas movie, after all. And when Kevin’s mom comes home, I get a little teary-eyed.

Afterward, at my request, we make a plan to fall asleep right there in front of the Christmas tree. I’ve always wanted to do that, but I never could, because of the gala.

So we both try dozing in the glow of the twinkling lights, but end up talking instead—sharing stories we missed from each other’s lives over the past ten years. We both have a lot of funny stories to tell with a few sad memories sprinkled in. Mostly we’ve been happy, which is a good thing. We just ignored the holes in our hearts and made the best of all our blessings.

Later, when the embers have all winked out, and my eyelids are thick and heavy, I’m just drifting off when I feel a sweet, soft kiss on my forehead.

“Hi,” I say.

“Did I wake you?”

“I don’t mind. I wasn’t quite asleep yet.”

“Well it’s midnight now,” Three whispers. “Happy Birthday, Sara Jane.”