I'll Be Yours for Christmas (17 page)

He wouldn't ask her to do that. No way would he say she had to come all the way over here and then form her life around his crazy racing schedule, content to see him in whatever cracks of time he had left.

It was why he'd never gotten into relationships in the first place.

“Reece, what the—”

“I'm sorry, Tony, I can't do it this week. I have other plans for Christmas,” he said, amazed at how easy it was. Abby had given him the gift of going after his dreams, after what he really wanted, and that was what he was going to do. “You…you
what?
”

“Listen, I appreciate this. I thought it was what I wanted, but I need to be home for Christmas.”

“Home? Reece, you are home. This is home.”

He grinned again, feeling incredibly giddy as he torpedoed his racing career for good.

“No, home is where Abby is.”

 

“W
HY DID YOU DECIDE
to come back?” Abby asked, wrapped up in a blanket that smelled like Reece, having a very late-night cup of hot chocolate with her parents.

Her mom and dad shared a somewhat guilty look, and Abby peered at them over her mug. “Tell me.”

“Well, to be completely honest,” her mother began, “Hannah called us.”

Abby groaned. “I'm sorry, she shouldn't have done that. I'm fine.”

Her mom looked at her, and Abby felt like she was ten again.

“She told us Reece proposed.”

Abby groaned a second time, closing her eyes and planning what she would do to her friend the next time she saw her. It wouldn't be pretty.

“We had no idea you and Reece were an item, let alone so serious,” her dad said.

“We…it's complicated. He has his life, I have mine. The two don't match up so well.”

“Why is that?”

“He has to be in Europe, racing, hopefully, and I have to be here, rebuilding and running the vineyards.”

“Is that really what you want, honey?” her mom asked, as if seeing right through her. “It's clear just by the look on your face, and how you cried your heart out a little while ago, that you love him. So why aren't you in France with an engagement ring on your finger for Christmas?”

Abby opened her mouth, gaped, started to say something. “Mom,” she began, “I love it here, and I have responsibilities, and—”

“They sound more like excuses than reasons, Abigail,” her father said.

“Wait,” she said, putting her hand up. “You know how much work this is, and it's even more so now with the fire and the reorganizing. I have to be here…right? And besides…” she said, but didn't finish her thought.

“Besides, what?”

“I don't know. There was this moment, when Reece lost control of the car for a minute, down in Daytona.”

“We saw it on the news. He pulled it back.”

“I know. But it scared me to death. What if he hadn't? What if he died, right there in front of me? I don't know if I can handle that.”

“Would you rather it happens when you're not there? When you're not the last person he sees before he races? The person he woke up with that morning? I'm sorry to be harsh, honey, but your father and I have seen a lot of pain and suffering in the last few months, and one thing I can tell you is that you can't avoid it. If Reece crashed, would your pain be any less for staying here?
Would it be better not to have married him and had that time together?”

Abby gaped, wordless in response to her parents' questions. That Reece could crash, could get hurt or worse, knowing that she hadn't wanted to be with him, had said no to marrying him. Had let him go…

And what about when he won? When he wanted to celebrate and enjoy life? Didn't she want to share that with him, too? The good and the bad?

“Oh, Mom,” she said, a fresh batch of new tears at the realization flooding her eyes.

“It's hard to figure out on your own sometimes, I know,” her mom said.

“But if I go…what about here? What about the wineries, and the rebuilding?”

“Well, that was kind of the miracle of Hannah's call. She gave us an excuse to come back.”

“She…what? I thought you loved your travel and your work?”

“Oh, we did. It was wonderful, but it made us also realize how precious home was, and how long we had been away. We wanted to come back, to come back to running the vineyard, but we didn't want you to feel like we were intruding or suggesting you weren't doing just fine. When Hannah called, we knew it was the right time to come back. For us, and for you.”

“You want to run the vineyard again?”

“Yes, and we have a bit more money in investments set aside, so we can, we think, with the insurance, probably buy Reece out, instead of you doing that and going broke trying.” Her mother shook her head. “Re
ally, Abby, didn't we teach you better about leading a balanced life?”

Abby fought the urge to smile. “Hannah really did tell you everything, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Remind me to thank her.”

Her parents' grins broke out wide, and so did hers. “We'll do that. But you have to get ready.”

“Ready? For what?”

Her parents chuckled conspiratorially and her father handed her an envelope with a red ribbon on it.

“You have a morning flight to Paris. Our Christmas gift to you. Go pack.”

 

R
EECE TURNED INTO
the driveway of the house and parked at the edge, party-goers apparently still sleeping from the wedding reception. It was Christmas Eve morning; he had made it home, just in time.

He couldn't wait to sneak in and wake Abby up—he fully intended to make love to her until she agreed to wear the ring he had in his pocket. It was his mission, he thought with a smile.

As he climbed the steps to the porch, he paused, looking out over the snowy fields down toward the grapes. All of the trees Abby had put in the yard sparkled and were lit, and Christmas was in the air. He never really understood what people meant when they said that, but he could feel it, right now, and he knew. Some of her Christmas magic must have rubbed off on him, he guessed.

He heard the door open behind him and spun, expect
ing to see Abby, but found himself facing an older man instead.

“Uh, hi,” Reece said, peering at the man more closely. He looked familiar. “I'm Reece, I live—”

“Oh, I know who you are,” the man said, letting out a belting laugh. He was then was joined by an older woman, whose eyes went wide.

Reece's did, too. He could see Abby in her mother's face and laughed as well.

“Mr. and Mrs. Harper! What a surprise,” he said. It
was
a surprise. His sneaky seduction of Abby would have to wait, he supposed. “It's so nice you made it here for Christmas, and not to be rude, but where is Abby?”

 

C
HRISTMAS AT
H
ANCOCK
I
NTERNATIONAL
A
IRPORT
wasn't exactly what Abby had counted on, but she was going to wait out this flight delay no matter what. It would figure. She had nearly killed herself getting here, unable to fly out of the smaller, Ithaca airport, and now her flight was delayed for weather.

She was going to call Reece and let him know she was coming, but then she thought she would make it a surprise instead—hopefully a happy one. He had invited her, so she hoped he'd be glad to see her.

So, she gave up her seat to a young mother carrying a baby, and paced in front of the gate, willing the delay to be lifted. She couldn't sit still anyway, in spite of getting no sleep, she was wired and eager to get going. The place was crowded, flooded with holiday travelers, and she felt sorry for the mom with the crying baby, and for kids napping against the posts and harried parents.

She paced to the vending machine and looked over the candy selection, and grabbed a chocolate bar, then headed to the Starbucks to get another double-shot expresso.

Her phone rang, and she looked.

Reece.

Her heart trip-hammered in her chest, and her hand shook as she clicked the talk button, though it could have been from the caffeine.

Right.

“Abby, it's Reece,” he said.

She laughed. “I know.”

“Oh, right. Listen, I just wanted to let you know I've had a change in plans, and I won't be able to meet you in France for the week.”

She paused. “What do you mean?”

“Listen, I know you probably weren't planning to come anyway, but I have to be somewhere else, and I didn't want you coming here and ending up finding me gone.”

Her heart sank. She looked at the lines of people suddenly in motion as they flooded the gate. The flight was boarding.

Of course it was.

She took a deep breath and got a grip.

“So, where will you be? I'll meet you there. Wherever,” she said, determined to make this work.

“Really? You'd meet me anywhere?”

“Yes. Reece, I have a lot to tell you, but things have changed, and…I want to spend Christmas with you, and tell you everything that's happened. I don't care where you are, I just want to be with you.”

“I can't wait,” he said, but this time the sound of his voice didn't come from the phone, but from right behind her.

She turned, and found herself nose-to-nose with him, and let out a screech that stopped just about everyone around them in their tracks. Throwing herself at him, they nearly both fell over until he got his balance and set her on her feet, saying nothing until he kissed her thoroughly.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“When did you come home? How did you know…?”

He smiled. “I didn't. I was at the house, and your parents said you were taking a flight. I couldn't believe it. I was breaking land-speed records getting here, I think, because I thought I would miss you,” he explained.

“You mean…at our house?” she asked, slowly putting two and two together.

“Yeah. I'm back. I didn't want to go through Christmas—or my life—without you.”

She was stunned, and lack of breathing threatened to steal words from her, the emotions hitting her too hard, the questions all rising too quickly.

“Breathe, Abby,” he said, kissing her again, and making sure she did.

“It was all happening, just as I hoped for,” he explained, “but none of it felt right. It wasn't like before. I didn't feel like I was home or happy or doing what I wanted to be doing. I didn't expect it. They were offering me everything I wanted, and all I could think of was that I wanted you. I wanted to be here. I wanted to wake up in bed with you Christmas morning, for the rest of our lives.”

Abby almost wondered if she had fallen asleep and was dreaming all of this. She must have said so, because he assured her he was real.

“I love you, Abby,” he said, his voice low and full of emotion. “I'm yours, if you want me.”

“I love you, too, Reece. And Christmas in bed sounds perfect to me,” she whispered, sliding into his arms once and for all.

A
BBY BUSTLED AROUND
the kitchen, making Reece the most amazing anniversary dinner he could imagine. They ate out at restaurants so often when they were on the road with the new team that she wanted to do something special, and something private. Her parents had gone on a vacation to the house in Talence, leaving Abby and Reece home to watch over the vineyard and enjoy their first anniversary alone together. With that amazing bathroom, she thought with a grin.

She loved the house, and their new life following the races around the U.S. and traveling and working the vineyard in between. Reece and Brody were co-owners of a new racing team now, and they were often surrounded by crowds and people, which was fun and exciting, but Abby wanted her husband to herself tonight. The team was doing very well, and Brody was in charge while Reece took the week off.

It was their first anniversary, after all, and she looked out the kitchen window at the pristine summer countryside. She loved Christmas, but was happy they had waited for a summer wedding. The vineyards were so
lovely, and they had been married out among them, overlooking the lake.

She had plans for her husband, who had been teasing her mercilessly for a week, keeping her on edge, doling out his seductions with practiced patience. She was intent on doing whatever was necessary to make him give in to her tonight.

The thought put a sly smile on her face. She didn't think he'd mind. They'd honed the practice of extended sex play and seduction to a fine art.

She checked all of the food, and took another peep at the delectable pastry in the refrigerator that was one of her favorites.

Her plan started now.

Shucking her clothes, she grabbed the sexy apron he'd caught her in that first Christmas and donned only that, taking her coat from the hook and heading down to the workshop Reece had remodeled to continue perfecting his cooperage. The craft had created a new bond between Reece and his father, as well, which both of them enjoyed, and now many of the barrels in which they aged their wine were made on premises.

She walked into the workshop, which smelled of oak and the delicious scents of wine and burnt wood, and she had come to find the aroma incredibly erotic. Reece was bent over an almost finished cask, cauterizing the opening through which the wine would be poured. She waited for him to finish, enjoying watching him, appreciating every sexy muscle in his body as he leaned into his work.

When he finished, he looked up and was unsurprised to find her there.

“Hey,” he said, taking off his safety glasses and
crossing to a sink to take off his gloves and wash his hands before he crossed to her, kissing her soundly. “How long have you been there?” he asked.

“Just a minute,” she said, love filling her just looking at him. “Dinner is almost done.”

“Do we have a few minutes?”

“Sure.”

“Isn't it a little hot for a coat?” he said, his eyes drifting down over her bare legs.

She smiled and wiggled her eyebrows. “I didn't think you'd want me walking down from the house in only this,” she said as she dropped the coat and watched his eyes darken with lust. “So what did you have in mind?” she asked innocently, raising an eyebrow at some ties attached to a beam that had been put to very good use the evening before.

“I have an anniversary gift for you,” he said, his voice a little raspy.

She smiled. “I have one for you, too, back at the house—but it's something we'll want to use there,” she said, sending him a sexy look.

“Mmm. Maybe we can come back for yours then,” he said, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her up close, where she could feel the extent of his excitement.

“Nope, I'd like mine now, please,” she said, poking him in the chest playfully.

“Okay, vixen, come with me,” he said, bringing her to a set of newly finished barrels. He opened one bottle and drew two glasses from the tap, a rich Baco that he sniffed, swirled and tasted, then handed hers to her.

“It's perfect, just like you,” he said, toying with the apron tie at her neck.

She sipped the rich, fruity wine and groaned in
appreciation as the flavors washed over her. “I don't think I have ever had a wine this complex—how did you get those sorts of sweet, smoky notes in there?”

It was a sexy, sensual wine, and she took another sip, feeling the tie at her neck pull loose.

“I've been experimenting with the barrels. This wine is ours. Like your mom and dad always did, I named it for us, too. Our story,” he said. “Happy Anniversary.”

“Oh, Reece. This is lovely. What did you name it?”

He put his glass down and pulled her in close as the apron fell away completely.

“Christmas in Bed.”

She smiled, so much in love she didn't think she could ever express it, so she just let herself be carried away by his kiss, because Reece was right. It was perfect.