12 Christmas Romances To Melt Your Heart (4 page)

M
y head still reeling
, I wheeled Elaine’s suitcases behind me as we walked into the hotel lobby to the strains of Elvis’s “Blue Christmas.” That was one I related to all too well. Even if I spent the holidays with the family of someone on my staff—I usually got invitations from no less than a dozen people to join them—it wasn’t the same as being with my own family. The holiday season was always rough on me. It would be easier if the NHL didn’t shut down for those days, but I couldn’t begrudge my players and coaching staff the time off.

Family is the most important thing in this world. I knew that better than anyone.

I waited while Elaine got checked in, the whole time rethinking my decision to bring her here. Why not just take her home with me? Before we’d left Starbucks, we’d agreed to spend as much time together as possible until she went back to Minnesota after the New Year, trying to work through all the decades of hurt between us so we could make a decision about the future. We hadn’t so much as kissed each other yet, though, so taking her to my house felt like skipping over a bunch of crucial steps.

Tucking her wallet back into her purse, she crossed over to me and reached for the handle of one suitcase with a shy smile, shrugging her way out of my suit jacket.

I shook my head to stop her before she got the jacket all the way off. “I’ve got them.”

She tugged on the lapels again, tightening my jacket around her body. It looked good on her, taking me back to our early days together.

“I just—I thought maybe you’d be ready to go home for the night. This has been a lot to take in. For both of us.”

“It has been, but that’s not a good enough reason for me to leave you until I’m sure you’re safe in your room.”

She chuckled and shook her head in a familiar way, but then she headed toward the elevator bay. When we got in, she pressed the button for the eighteenth floor. The strains of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” filled the space as we rode up. Elaine kept fingering the piece of mistletoe she’d been carrying around all night, staring down at it in her hands. It made me want to be Santa right now.

We’d held hands earlier, and she’d let me put a hand on her waist as we’d walked. But we hadn’t come close to a kiss. Taking her home with me might be moving too fast, but a kiss couldn’t be a bad thing. Could it?

I hadn’t decided yet when the elevator doors opened and she led the way to her room.

She opened the door and held it for me to follow her in with her bags. I lifted the heavier one onto the luggage rack so she wouldn’t have to struggle with it later.

She was smiling when I faced her. “See? You haven’t changed a bit. Not in the ways that matter. You’re still getting me safely to my door and doing all the heavy lifting.”

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling right along with her. This felt good. Being with her again. Talking. Hearing her voice and remembering how good we’d been together before. “Old habits die hard,” I finally said.

“We’re really getting old, aren’t we?”

“I am. I don’t know about you.” To my eye, the years hadn’t been as hard on her as they had on me. There was still that youthful excitement in her eyes that had initially drawn me to her, and even though tears had come easily to her eyes tonight, they hadn’t stopped her from smiling and laughing.

“We were really stupid to let so many years pass,” she said, sighing as she sat on the edge of the bed. She kept playing with the ribbon on the mistletoe, tangling it between her fingers and unfurling it a moment later.

Now or never. “Are you just going to play with that all night, or are you going to put it to use?”

Her eyes flickered up to meet mine. “Sophie gave it to me with a specific purpose in mind.”

I raised my eyebrows in question, waiting for Elaine to take the lead. She’d been doing a good job of it all night long.

She patted the spot beside her on the bed. “Come here, Jim.”

I didn’t waste any time taking the seat she’d offered, heart in my throat and blood roaring through my veins.

Her chest rose and fell with shaky breaths when she tipped her face back to look at me. “We weren’t this awkward the first time, were we?”

I shook my head. “It didn’t mean as much then. We didn’t know any better.”

The first time I’d kissed her was after the first real date I’d taken her on. It was fall, and we’d gone to a park people liked to take their dogs to. Back in those days, there wasn’t any such thing as a dog park, but this was as close as you could come to it. Neither of us had dogs, but it hadn’t mattered in the least to either of us. We’d gone, and we’d played with other peoples’ dogs in the massive piles of autumn leaves, laughing until our stomachs hurt too much to laugh any more but unable to stop.

The sun had still been out when I’d walked Elaine back to her apartment, both of us out of breath from laughing so hard. She’d nearly tripped on the steps leading up to her door, and when I’d caught her, she’d fallen into my arms. The only natural thing to do was to kiss her. So I that was exactly what I did.

I think I knew in that moment that my life was about to change for the better. But I’d only realized it once my lips were on hers, once she was in my arms.

Now, sitting next to her in this hotel room, it felt even more momentous than that first kiss had. This was it. My second chance—the only one that would ever really matter, because it was with the love of my life.

I didn’t want to screw it up.

Elaine made her move at the same time I did. We bumped noses, and she laughed, the same way she had that day in the park when she’d been buried in a mountain of leaves.

There wasn’t a more beautiful sound in the world.

I changed the angle of my head and tried again.

This time, I got it right.

She was still laughing, but she put a hand on the nape of my neck and tugged me closer. I might have laughed, too. But then I slid my tongue along the seam of her lips, and she opened, and our laughter got lost in a kiss.

I
didn’t sleep
much at all that night. My brain wouldn’t shut off. It had always been a problem for me, since I’d been a little boy trying to take care of my mom after my father died. I would lie in bed for hours with thoughts racing through my head—analyzing things I could have done differently, waffling over what I needed to do next—all sorts of things that an eight-year-old boy shouldn’t be thinking about. But I’d done it then, and I still did it today.

For years, I’d spent hours each night replaying the moment I’d taken that woman in the bar back to my hotel room, trying to undo what I’d done. Other nights, it had been the conversation with Elaine that had haunted my mind and kept me from sleep. Should I have pretended it hadn’t happened and kept it to myself? There’d always been a Guys’ Code in the league, so I doubted any of my teammates would have said a word to her. I could have kept it hidden, but it would have eaten me alive. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself. But maybe there was something else I could have done or said to convince Elaine to give me another chance. To stay with me.

The truth was, I hadn’t fought for us. I’d admitted what I’d done, and I was so upset with myself over it that when she’d said she was leaving and taking Dillon with her, it had made absolute and total sense to me. I loved her too much, and at the time I’d hated myself so much for hurting her that I didn’t think it was worth putting up a fight over.

I was wrong. She was right. And that was that.

But now she wanted us to try. To fight for what should have been, not for what was.

After tossing and turning in my bed for hours, wishing she was there with me so I could hold her—she’d always had a way of soothing me to sleep when I got like that—I knew there was only one thing I could do.

Fight with her, for us. When I dragged myself out of bed on Christmas Eve, still groggy and not nearly rested enough, that was the only thing in my mind. Before going to the hotel and bringing Elaine over that morning, I had a couple of things to take care of.

The first was a call to Mattias Bergstrom, the Storm’s head coach, to let him know I wouldn’t be joining his family for dinner after all. I supposed he’d lost the annual lottery and was stuck with babysitting me for Christmas. Granted, he probably wouldn’t have described it in quite those terms, but that was how it always felt to me when someone from the Storm organization shared their holiday and their family with me.

Once I’d backed out and apologized for the short notice, I dug through my kitchen catch-all drawer until I found what I was looking for and made a trip to the mall. Leaving the jewelry store armed with a small gift-wrapped box, I headed over to pick up Elaine.

She breezed out to my car, smiling bright enough to make me forget about all the clouds that had blown in overnight. The weather forecast was calling for snow, but I wasn’t sure I believed it. Not with how brightly Elaine shined today.

When she got in the car, she handed my suit jacket to me. Our fingers brushed in the transfer, sending a jolt of electricity between us. Her lips parted in an O, so she’d felt it, too.

I’d forgotten all about my jacket last night, since I was so flustered after kissing her for the first time in decades. She was making me feel like an awkward boy instead of a grown man in the wrong half of my fifties.

She gave me a sweet smile that had my heart racing. “You didn’t sleep last night, did you?”

I shook my head.

“Good thoughts or bad this time?”

“A bit of both.”

Once she’d tossed her small bag in the backseat and fastened her seat belt, I pulled out of the hotel parking lot.

“So… Tell me. What did you solve in your midnight ponderings?”

“Just that seeing you now, after all this time, I still love you more than I know how to handle.” When I glanced at her before turning to enter the highway, she had a soft look in her eyes. She was staring at me like she was trying to see into my mind.

“Is that the good or the bad?” she asked after a moment.

“The good.”

“Well, I guess I can breathe again, then. And I suppose I can guess the bad.”

“You think?”

“You spent hours beating yourself up and trying to figure out what you could have done differently all those years ago, so we wouldn’t have lost all this time.”

Despite my better intentions, my lips quirked up in a grin. “Maybe not
hours
.”

“Oh, really? So how much sleep did you get?”

I tried to pull off an apologetic shrug. “Maybe not hours,” I repeated.

“Mm-hmm.” She set her hand on my knee as I drove, stealing my ability to think. Good thing getting home was like going on autopilot. Her long fingers curled over the kneecap. “Jim?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you more than I know how to handle, too.”

That was good. That was really good.

I wasn’t one to break down in tears very often, but I felt them pricking at the backs of my eyes. “So now what?”

She stared out the window, watching the city pass by. “So now we figure out how to make this work.”

G
etting
to know each other again after all this time was proving to be an adventure.

There were some things that hadn’t changed. I was still cold all the time. Jim always did everything he could to be sure everyone around him was comfortable and smiling, having a good time. He still did better steering clear of the kitchen, whereas cooking was one of my favorite things to do.

But there were differences now, too. The whole time I was in the kitchen making our Christmas Eve dinner, he was right by my side. Not getting in my way, though. Years ago, if he’d come into the kitchen while I worked, I usually fussed at him to move because he was slowing me down. This time, he was reaching for things before I realized I needed them and handing them to me so I could keep doing what I was doing.

And we talked. The whole time I worked on our glazed ham, mashed sweet potatoes, and roasted Brussels sprouts, we got to know each other all over again. I filled him in on all the Christmas traditions Dillon and I had followed over the years. Jim wanted to know every tiny detail, right down to when we hung the stockings over the mantel and how many presents I allowed him to open on Christmas Eve.

“Your gifts for him had to wait until Christmas Day,” I said, sliding the butcher knife down the center of a sweet potato.

“Why’s that?”

“Because that was when we opened the important presents.”

A certain sadness came into his eyes when I said that.

“He didn’t think they were all that important, did he?”

“He will someday. And I wanted to be sure there was a distinction.” I tossed the sweet potatoes into the steamer and set the butcher knife down on the counter. “I never wanted to keep him from you, Jim. I always tried to be sure he had a relationship with you. That you had one with him.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

He chuckled and grabbed a handful of toasted nuts from the bowl at the edge of the counter, chewing a pecan before answering me. “You said he’s a lot like me?”

“So much that it broke my heart all over again every time he picked up another of your habits. It was like you were with me, even though you weren’t.”

“Well, if he’s a lot like me, then he probably tends to internalize things. Keep it all bottled up inside. And then blame whoever it’s easiest to blame.”

“You only blame yourself, though.”

“Which makes it really easy for Dillon to blame me, too. Clearly, I already agreed with him, right?” He picked out a walnut and held it out for me to eat from his hand, bringing a bit of flirtation into our conversation. “So what do you think he’s doing now, without you there?”

“He’s starting up a new set of traditions with Kelsey, I’d imagine.” The realization hit me like one of Jim’s players slamming me into the boards and brought a new sort of ache to my heart. Dillon was all grown up now. He was starting his own life. Which was what I wanted for him, of course, but at the same time, it left a piece of me hollow. Dillon was all I’d had for so many years. He was my world, and now he was making his own.

That was even more reason for me and Jim to find a way to repair the relationship as best we could. He’d been alone all this time. He’d had this same hollow ache inside his chest every Christmas, wondering what sort of things Dillon and I were doing without him.

“Were you lonely?” I asked, putting the steamer on the stove. “All those Christmases without us?”

He shrugged it off. “I was never alone. My teammates always made sure I had somewhere to go while I was playing, and since I’ve been working in the front offices, there’ve always been families inviting me along. I got to experience countless family holiday traditions over the years.”

“But they weren’t yours.”

“No. Well, I suppose they were in a sense.”

“But not the sense you wanted.”

“Not in the sense I wanted. No.”

“I’m sorry, Jim. I’m sorry I took all of that from you, and no amount of apologizing can ever make it better.”

“But you’re here now.” He smiled at me when he said it, a real smile that wiped away his earlier sadness.

“I’m here now.”

“So what do you say we start a new tradition? Since we’re giving this a real shot, I mean.”

I washed my hands and dried them on a dishtowel, pleased as punch that things were going as smoothly as they were. I honestly hadn’t been sure it was going to work out for us at first. I loved Jim with everything in me, but he was stubborn when it came to carrying the whole world on his shoulders and not wanting to share the load.

“What kind of new tradition?” I asked cautiously.

“You said that with Dillon, you always saved the important gifts for Christmas Day?”

“Yes…”

“I want the two of us to always give the most important gift on Christmas Eve.” He grinned, and his whole face lit up. “I know you might not have something—”

“I do,” I cut in. “I have something I want to give you.” I just wasn’t sure it would go the way I’d been hoping for. All of a sudden, my insides all knotted up with nerves again, like they had been when I’d first arrived in Portland.

“Yeah?” He raised his brows in question.

I bit my lip and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Come on.” He took my hand and led me into the living room. The fire in the hearth had the room lit up in a soft glow, and the first few snowflakes were starting to fall outside.

“We’re getting a white Christmas,” I murmured.

He turned to look out the window. “Well, look at that.” Then he took a seat on the sofa and tugged me down beside him, reaching for something behind one of the pillows. “This is turning out better than I could have planned it. Me first.”

When he brought his hand out, he held what appeared to be a small black jewelry box with a simple red silk bow tied around it.

I shook my head. “You didn’t have time to go jewelry shopping.”

“Just open it.”

With shaking fingers, I loosened the bow and slid the ribbon off. Nerves zinging and leaving me jumpy, I opened the lid.

A single, silver house key lay in a bed of red satin.

I jerked my head up to meet Jim’s gaze.

“A key to my house. I know—I don’t want to rush you into coming to stay if you’re not ready, and I know you’ve got a whole life in Minnesota. Dillon and Kelsey are there. But you came back into my life, and you said you wanted another chance. For us. To make this work. And I want it, too. I want it as much as I want my next breath. So whenever you’re ready, I want you to come home.”

“Home?” My eyes fluttered to hold back tears, not that it was any use. And I’d made the same rookie mistake again today. Mascara was sure to be steaking down my cheeks any moment. Damn if I didn’t want to look as good as I could for him.

He brushed a tear from my cheek with his thumb and then cupped my face in the palm of his hand. “Home. And not just for the holidays.”

I took the key out of the box and fished in my pocket for my set of keys. My hand was still shaking too much for me to get the key on the ring, so Jim took it all from my hands and finished the job for me, grinning as he pressed the set into the palm of my hand. He moved to kiss me, but I stopped him with my palm to the center of his chest.

“Not yet. I have something for you first.”

He nodded.

I returned my keys to my pocket, digging my phone out of the other one. I dialed Dillon’s number. He answered on the second ring.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” he said, sounding happy and healthy and perfect.

“Merry Christmas to you, too. Are you having a good time with Kelsey’s family?”

“They’re great. We’re about to drive around town and look at all the Christmas lights everyone has up.”

“That sounds great.” I glanced over at Jim, noting the crease in his brow. Anxiety. He’d figured out what I was planning to give him. I reached over and took his hand, holding it firm in mine to reassure him. “Listen, Dillon, there’s something I need you to do before that.”

Jim shook his head and tried to back away, but I wouldn’t let go.

“You know I’ll do anything for you, Mom.”

“I know you will. So I want you to talk to your father.”

“I… Really?”

“Do it for me, Dillon. I love you.”

Before my son could argue with me, I passed the phone to Jim and got up to return to the kitchen. Their first conversation in a decade should be private, and I needed to check on dinner.

Twenty minutes later, Jim brought my phone to me in the kitchen. Crying. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him cry. Maybe not ever. He’d always had a heart twice the size of a normal man, but tears weren’t part of his usual repertoire.

I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep mine at bay. “Good tears or bad tears?” I really hoped they were good, but there was something in my gut telling me bad was more likely.

He set my phone on the counter and nodded. And kept nodding, like he couldn’t get words out.

I opened my arms, and he came straight into them, wrapping me tight in a bear hug that might just rob me of my breath, but I didn’t care. He buried his face in my hair.

“Good,” he whispered against my ear. “Really good.”

I held him until his tears stopped and my ability to breathe returned. And then I heard something.

Singing.

“Carolers?” I asked as Jim backed away, drying his eyes on his sleeves.

He raised a brow and looked toward the front door. “Sure sounds like it.”

The familiar strains of “Silent Night” gradually became clearer. Whoever was caroling, they were doing it here, at Jim’s house.

He reached for my hand, and we went together to the door. He opened it, and we stepped out on the front porch to find Coach Bergstrom and his family all dressed in white gowns with red sashes. An older couple was with them, too, as well as a man and woman who had Down syndrome like Sophie. The girls had wreaths on their heads lit up with candles, and little Sophie was holding a tray filled with cookies as everyone else sang.

The snow was coming down a lot heavier now, and I shivered. Jim wrapped his arms around me from behind and held me close, warming me all around.

“
Pepparkakor
,” the coach explained, nodding at Sophie’s tray. “They’re gingersnap biscuits. Mom and Linnea taught the girls to make them. We’re honoring St. Lucia by bringing them to you. It’s a Swedish tradition,” he added, winking. “And caroling is something Paige and the girls do every Christmas.”

“A bit of the old and a bit of the new,” Jim said.

“That’s right.”

They finished their song, and Sophie lifted her tray toward me. “Merry Christmas, Miss Elaine.”

I took it from her. “Thank you so much. And Merry Christmas to you, too. All of you,” I added, nodding at each of them.

Sophie curled a finger for me to come closer.

I took a step out of Jim’s arms and leaned in.

“Did you use the mistletoe with Mr. Jim?” she whispered.

“I did.”

“So it worked like Miss Mia said it would?”

I laughed. “Yes. It worked.”

She nodded so hard the force blew out a couple of her wreath candles. “Good. Because Mr. Jim needs someone to love him. He shouldn’t be alone at Christmas.”

“He’s got that, sweetheart. He’s not alone anymore.” And I’d be damned if he would ever be alone again. I finally had my second chance, and I had no intention of squandering it.