12 Christmas Romances To Melt Your Heart (13 page)

P
eter waved
the men off standing beside the mares and they backed away, calling the wolves to follow them —one as black as night and the other whiter than the clouds in the sky. Beautifully terrifying.

Both were larger than any dog she’d ever seen. Their backs were level with the mens’ waists they walked next to.

“Pretty big, aren’t they?”

Had she spoken out loud?
“What?”

“The wolves,” he said, a chuckle rolling up from deep within his chest. You haven’t stopped staring at them since we started moving.”

“Why would anyone want a wolf as a pet?”

“Technically, they’re hybrids. Not pure wolf. As for why…no clue. I guess if you have enough money, you end up with things that typical people don’t even consider an option.”

She shrugged. It was a good answer if the men were rich, but their clothes looked the same as anyone else wandering town square during the parade.

“Do you know them?”

“You don’t know Aaron VonBrandt?”

“I know his name, but I’d never seen him face to face. Who was the other man?”

Peter was the one shaking his head this time. “Not sure. Never met him. But the VonBrandts have a lot of family living out on their ranches. And a lot of people that visit regularly. He was probably family or a friend. Since the wolf knew him. My best guess is family.”

“Hmmm.” She pulled the coat a little tighter, cutting off the bite of the cold wind.

He pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the theatre and hopped to the ground. He handed the reins to a man she didn’t recognize, but who bore a striking resemblance to the men with the wolves. He was much younger, though.

“Tell your dad thanks again for the horses.”

The younger man gave a half-smile. “Sorry Lady gave you a start. We’ve never had trouble with her like that before. She’s always so calm.”

“It’s okay, Noah. Even horses can have a bad day.” Peter circled the wagon and came around to stand beside the bench seat. He raised his arms. “You’re going to have to scoot off the bench into my arms. I promise I won’t let you drop.”

Using her good leg, Carolyn did as asked and slipped off the seat. His hands caught her around the waist and he let her body slide slowly through his grasp against his chest. Her breath hitched as her breasts pressed against him once more. She licked her lips without thinking.

“Something look good, Miss Myers?”

Heat rushed up her neck and spread through her face. He hadn’t just flirted with her had he?

“I…wha…” Her lips parted, but she couldn’t form a coherent thought.

Peter smiled again. Those perfect dimples gave him a boyish charm even at his age…whatever that might be. She couldn’t be sure. Early fifties, maybe.

“Lean against the wagon for a sec.”

She did, and frowned when he tugged the white beard up from where it hung limply at his neck. After fixing it in place, most of his handsome face was covered. Instead, she saw the icon of the holiday she hated with every fiber of her being. Carolyn remembered she was wearing his dead wife’s coat.

Her emotions were getting the better of her and that needed to stop. After this doc looked at her, and Peter Gibson took her back to her house, she’d be done with this. She’d never have to see him again. In fact, she would call up a realtor tomorrow and list the house for sale. It was high time she moved to a bigger city. Maybe leaving the quietness of Somewhere in the past would finally help her leave
her
past behind as well.

She loved this small town. But it hurt every time she stepped foot outside her front door. Memories of growing up with her ex-husband. Dating him. He was the only boy she’d ever dated. And the only man she’d ever loved.

And he’d ripped out her heart and stomped all over it.

She’d vowed that night to never let another man that close. Even if it meant being alone for the rest of her life.

His hand cupped her chin and lifted her head until she met his honey-brown gaze again. “Where did you go, Carolyn? Why are you so sad?”

“I’m fine,” she snapped. “You’re the one carrying around your dead wife’s coat.”

Oh, God! How could she have just said that?

His expression behind the white beard was crestfallen. She was pretty sure she saw a tear escape one eye before he quickly wiped it away.

He coughed and scooped her up into his arms again like she weighed no more than the children she could hear squealing from inside the building.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That was a horrible thing to say. I shouldn’t have. I’m sure you have your reasons.” Her face burned and she wanted to shrink from sight. Instead, she was trapped in the arms of a nice man who’d been nothing but kind to her and was only trying to make sure she got the proper care for her injury.

In return she’d been a bitch and insulted his wife. His dead wife.

She’d let her bitterness over what’d happened to her ten years ago drag her to a new low.

“It
was
a horrible thing to say, but I’m sure you had your reasons as well.” His voice rumbled low, through his chest and rolled through her body as well.

Peter pushed open the front door of the Piper Theatre with his shoulder and more Christmas cheer assailed her from every angle. Tinsel. Strings of popcorn and cranberries. Garland. Holly. Lights. Lights. And more lights.

Children screamed in excitement.

“Santa!… Santa’s here!… And Mrs. Claus too!… Yay!… Santa brought Mrs. Claus this year!” The cheers rang from every corner of the room.

“I’m no—”

“Shhhh,” he commanded. “Don’t ruin it for them. You can be Mrs. Claus for an hour or two.”

“I don’t want to be Mrs. Claus for five minutes. Put me down and take this coat.”

He shook his head. “Merry Christmas,” he bellowed. “Can you bring another chair for Mrs. Claus? She hurt her ankle and can’t stand up.”

Several adults moved quickly, and another rocking chair was set next to the large wooden one already in the center of the large hall. An endless pile of brightly colored gifts was stacked around the rocker and an enormous, festively decorated Christmas tree was set up behind it.

Oh, God.
“They’re going to take pictures, aren’t they?” Her voice came out softer than a whisper.

“Yep. Which means I get to see you smile. I’ve been imagining what that might look like since I first picked you up.” He winked and she scowled. He clucked his tongue and set her gently in the rocker. Then arranged the oversized robe to hide her clothes beneath it. He hooked the button at the top of her neck and brushed his thumb along the line of her jaw.

Her breath caught in her chest and her stomach fluttered.

Why wouldn’t he just let her be? Why did he have to drag her into the spotlight? Carolyn didn’t want to be surround by children. Surrounded by happy families. It reminded her of what she’d given up on.

She blinked a few times and took a deep breath, willing the tears away with anger. He was a jerk for doing this to her. He knew she didn’t want to participate. Peter Gibson was forcing her to.

That wasn’t absolutely true. She could ask any one of the adults in the room to help her to the side. She could apologize to the children and explain that it was a mistake. That she really wasn’t Mrs. Claus.

But she didn’t. She stayed.

She turned to glance over at Peter. A large man was leaning over his shoulder and Peter was speaking in a low quiet voice. She couldn’t tell what he said, but the other man rushed off in a hurry.

He turned back to her with his hundred-watt smile and dimples big enough to drown in. Even under the ridiculous curly white beard, he was handsome and… so happy.

She couldn’t remember that last time she’d been as happy as he looked at this very instant.

“As soon as Doc Cooper gets here and wraps your ankle, we can start the line.”

Carolyn shook her head. “You don’t have to wait, on my account.”

“Yes we do.”

P
eter couldn’t stop grinning
. The woman was angry and hurt, but she reminded him so much of Diane. When she’d licked her lips right before he’d gotten her down from the wagon, he hadn’t been able to push away the desire to kiss her rosy mouth.

She was a beautiful woman. Honey blond hair curled around her ears, bouncing on her shoulders with each turn of her head. Her eyes were a mixture of blue and green and a splash of light brown freckles adorned her cheeks. It was cute.

She was younger than him, but hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken the time to look at any woman unless it’d been at Joe’s bar with the young guys from Anna’s ranch. And those girls certainly hadn’t been interested in an old man like him.

Carolyn was different. And she wasn’t too young. Hopefully. Plus, he could’ve sworn he’d seen a look of interest. Briefly maybe. But it’d still been there.

What he really couldn’t believe, was
his
interest.

She was sitting there, so annoyed by the whole situation, almost like she hated the sight of Christmas itself. Still wearing his wife’s old costume coat, and doing her darnedest not to cry. A fake smile split her face and she pretended to be interested when a little toddler wandered up and rubbed his little fingers across the red skirt of her long coat.

“Santa,” the familiar voice of Doc Cooper called, and he came out from the crowd carrying a brown duffle. “What’s this I hear about Mrs. Claus being injured?”

“Pretty sure it’s just a sprain, doc. But I refused to leave her behind. Wanted you to give it a look and hopefully wrap it for her,” Peter said, catching her gaze again. “He’ll take good care of you,” he said, winking. “The horses at the ranch love him. He always brings them treats.”

Her eyes widened, and air whooshed from her lungs. She gasped, “You’re a vet!” Her screech of surprise made them both laugh, which only brought another flood of pink to her round cheeks.

“Yes,” Doc Cooper answered. “I promise I know how to wrap a sprain. Plus, the kids are waiting. And you don’t want to see what happens to this room if they get antsy.”

He pushed aside Carolyn’s coat and rolled up her jeans pant leg.

Peter winced. The ankle was more swollen and even more purple than it had been when he’d looked at it.

“I’ll wrap it for now, Mrs. Claus, but Santa over here will need to help you to the ER after the party. I’m pretty sure it’s broken. I can take you now, if you’d like. I know the kids will be disappointed, but you’ve got to be in a lot of pain.” He kept his voice low and discreet, but Peter heard every word.

He was an asshole for thinking she could make it through the festivities. She needed painkillers and a bed.

She shook her head. “Just wrap it. I’ll stay until it’s over.”

“It’s okay, Carolyn. You can go,” Peter said, wishing he could leave the party right now with her. He could only imagine the pain she was fighting through and she shouldn’t have to wait.

“I’ll be fine.” She winced as the doctor finished tucking the end of the bandage beneath another strip. A single tear escaped, but she brushed it away and flashed a brave smile.

“Okay then,” he said, turning back the line of expectant children.

“Is Mrs. Claus okay?” asked the little girl at the front of the line. She couldn’t have been more than five, but the sympathy in her face was priceless.

“I am, sweetie. Don’t worry,” Carolyn answered before he could.

He turned and saw the first genuine smile from her so far. She beamed for that little girl’s benefit and it was damned beautiful. Sexy and sweet all wrapped up together.

He had it bad.

Peter shook his head and smiled. Diane was probably laughing her butt off as she watched this unfold. Here he was, trapped in a Santa suit with probably the only woman in the whole state of Texas that hated Christmas. It hadn’t escaped his notice that her home was the only house on the parade route that didn’t look like a gingerbread house from a Christmas painting.

Not even one lonely strand of lights had adorned her porch. Something had stolen her holiday spirit, and he was suddenly grateful for the runaway sleigh. If that car hadn’t backfired and Lady hadn’t bolted, he wouldn’t be sitting next to this woman who fought so hard to be angry so no one would notice how much she was hurting.

“Hop up, sweetie,” he said, turning back to the little girl.

She complied with a gleeful giggle and proceeded to whisper in his ear everything she wanted for Christmas, what her parents wanted, what her grandmother wanted, and even what her pet wanted.

He gave his best Santa laugh and smiled for the picture. Told her to be a good girl and just maybe what she wanted would be under her tree on Christmas morning.

Child after child sat on his knee over the course of two hours. Each child had a different wish. Each child got a present from the stack of brightly wrapped boxes next to his chair. Every child, after climbing down from his lap, walked carefully to Carolyn and gave her a gentle hug. All of them were careful of her foot and made sure to approach her from the side, and not the front.

By the time the line was finished, she was laughing and smiling and returning their hugs, even posing for pictures when they asked.

There was hope for her yet.

H
e was carrying her again
. The man just couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of her. Although, pressed tightly to his chest, she really couldn’t complain. It’d been so long since she felt protected.

And he made her feel that way. Small and safe. She could’ve hobbled along next to him, but he wouldn’t put her down.

Every time she’d protested he told her “No”. No explanation. No reason. Just “No” and kept right on.

Peter strolled through the ER doors and paused at the large desk where several nurses hustled back and forth. One was on the phone and the other two were talking to other people seeking care.

The nurse who’d been on the phone hung up and met Carolyn’s gaze.

“What can we do for you?” she asked, rising from her chair.

“She’s sprained, or possibly fractured, her ankle,” Peter answered before she could.

“Please fill out these papers,” the nurse said, passing a clipboard over the counter. “Bring them back when you’re done and we’ll get you in to see the doctor. Probably be about ten minutes.”

Carolyn took the board and he carried her toward a couple of empty chairs, placing her gently in one and sinking into the other himself. He didn’t groan, but she could tell he wanted to.

“You need to stop carrying me,” she said, scribbling her information on the documents.

“You need to stop complaining,” he said, another chuckle rumbling from his chest.

What was it that kept a smile on his face?

“Why are you so cheerful? We’re in a hospital, for crying out loud.”

“Who hurt you, Carolyn?” he asked, taking the finished paperwork from her hands. “I’d really like to break his face for you.”

She smirked as she pictured the mountain of a man in front of her knocking her ex to his ass. Possibly even breaking his nose.

“I’ll be right back.” He hopped up from the chair and dropped the clipboard at the front desk. Then hurried back to her side, sliding back into the chair and leaning sideways, until his arm and shoulder melded into hers. “Were you going to give me a name? Or should I regard every male in town as a potential target?”

“You’re just being nice to me because your horses almost killed me.”

“No, I’m being nice to you because for the first time in fifteen years since my wife passed away, a woman is blushing in my presence and I just can’t seem to get enough.”

Her chest tightened and she sucked in a quick breath. She hadn’t imagined the flirting or the interest. She wanted it to be real. He made her feel young again. Like anything was possible. Like her life maybe wasn’t over. Like she might not have to be alone forever.

“I woke up on Christmas eve ten years ago and found a note on my husband’s pillow that said he didn’t love me anymore, he’d found someone else who had more to give him, and he’d send paperwork in the mail for me sign.”

Peter’s fingers tightened around the chair handle until his knuckles turned white. His mouth pressed into an angry line and his honey-brown eyes darkened.

She had no doubt in her mind that if her ex showed up at this very moment, that Peter would decimate him. Even though imagining her ex getting the shit beat out of him was a little satisfying, she didn’t really want Peter in trouble for assault.

“He doesn’t live here anymore.” She put her hand over his and felt the tension in his body melt into the ether.

He turned his hand and threaded his fingers between hers, squeezing gently. “Any man who ends a marriage that way isn’t worth a second thought. I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head and stared at the white tiled floor. “He was the love of my life. When he left, I didn’t cope with life very well. I hired a lawyer, kept the house and the car. Then I never left.”

“Town?”

“The house.” She turned, looking into his eyes. They’d softened back to a warm honey color again. “I work from home. I shop from home. I order delivery to eat.”

He squeezed her hand again. “And in I come, ordering you around, taking you to a Christmas party. No wonder you cringe at the sight of holiday decorations. Geez. Could I have been any more bossy?”

She laughed. “I can’t believe I let him ruin a wonderful holiday for so long. You know, those kids are really what tipped the scale. I’d forgotten the magic in the holiday. Seeing them wishing for gifts and asking you for their heart’s desire…then they wanted to hug me. Just because I was dressed up in big red coat…I—”

“It’s the best thing on the planet. Seeing the wonder and joy in a child’s face.” He took a deep breath and his gaze flicked away from hers for a moment.

“You never had kids with your wife?”

“Carolyn Myers, the doctor will see you now,” a nurse called, approaching them with a wheelchair.

Peter stood quickly, then lifted her from her seat into the wheelchair.

“You like doing that don’t you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“What?” he asked, innocence in his voice, but a smile dancing in his eyes.

“Mmmmhmmm.”

He grinned. “I’ll wait here for you.”

“You’re just avoiding my last question.”

He shrugged. “Probably.”