Some Kind of Wonderful: A Holiday Novella (The Cupcake Lovers) (4 page)

Too little, too late, and a definite disconnect. The conversation with Giselle quickly tanked. Zach’s attempts to introduce pieces of their long-distance correspondence had bombed. Giselle shouldn’t have felt like a stranger, but she did. The fire that had burned between them via the written word was ash. He assumed Giselle’s lack of interest was due to his lack of uniform and his damned bum leg. He’d expected disinterest on her side. But not on his. She was Playboy-bunny hot and he hadn’t felt even a twinge of lust.

On the other hand, Zach had it bad for the woman sitting next to him, a woman dressed in soft pink fleece bottoms and an oversized sweatshirt featuring Sleeping Beauty. Or maybe it was Snow White. Unlike Maya, Zach had never been able to keep those Disney heroines straight. Unlike Maya, he’d never been a fan of fairy tales or a hard-core dreamer.

Zach had always been a realist. Now he was a realist and a cynic.

Early on, Zach had been inspired to serve in the military. In school he’d sucked in science, but he’d excelled in history. He knew the politics, the necessities and atrocities of war. He understood the need to protect and preserve. To fight for the persecuted. To combat evil. He’d joined the Marine Corps to honor his dad and grandfather, both Devil Dogs. He’d entered the sniper program because his uncle had taught him to hunt and he’d always been a crack shot. He’d been the best of the best, and it hadn’t been enough.

“Whatever happened over there,” Maya said as if reading his mind, “maybe you’d feel better if you talked about it. Letting it fester can’t be good.”

“You sound like a shrink, and I’ve already been down that road.”

“I just want you to know … I’m here. If you ever want to talk about what happened.”

Zach was pretty sure she already knew at least part of what had happened. He’d bet his last dime she’d learned about Ben’s death and the partial circumstances. Then, being an imaginative person, she’d spun all sorts of ugly scenarios, filling in her own grisly details until she’d made herself sick.

Zach’s chest grew tight, as he knew she was willing to endure his personal nightmare in hopes of making him feel better. Knowing the truth of it, even if he skated over graphic descriptions, would make her ill. Maya wasn’t cut out for the ugliness in the world. He’d always been simultaneously charmed and frustrated by that.

Right now, he wanted to make sure she didn’t go to bed harboring whatever scenarios she’d cooked up. He wanted to replace fear and death with cheer and hope. Zach set aside his soda and shrugged out of his suit coat. “I’m too wired to sleep. How’d you feel about a movie?”

She drew her knees up to her chest. “What kind of movie?”

“A Christmas movie.”

“You hate Christmas movies.”

“Only the sappy ones.”

Her lip twitched, drawing his attention to her mouth. “They’re all sappy,” she said with a half grin.

He wanted to kiss her.

A wisp of panic, something he rarely experienced, heightened his senses. Would she stop him? Encourage him? Would it taint their friendship? Spark something deeper? That thought alone scared the devil out of him.

Tempering his runaway thoughts, Zach nabbed the remote and flipped through channels. He stopped on one of the many versions of
Scrooge
or
A Christmas Carol
. Whatever it was called. The one starring those dopey-faced Muppets. It was as close as he could find to Disney. The frog was mid-song, a chipper melody that made Zach swallow a groan. They’d missed the beginning, but Zach didn’t figure Maya cared. She’d probably seen this movie a million times. “How about this one?”

“Not
too
sappy,” she said with a smile that tripped his pulse. “Perfect.”

Battening down his lustful impulses, Zach opened his arm and motioned her closer. She snuggled against him and his heart hammered like a mother.
Yup. Perfect. Perfectly screwed up.
And for tonight, perfectly welcome.

Chapter Five

“Deck the halls with boughs of holly—”

“I’m going to deck you with this pillow if you don’t shut up.” Giselle rolled onto her stomach with a groan and buried her face in the potential fluffy weapon.

“Not my fault you have a hangover, Miss Grumpy Pants.” Maya donned one of her favorite holiday cardigans (the one featuring each of Santa’s reindeer, including Rudolph and his glowing nose), squelching the urge to break into even louder song. That would be cruel. Not that Giselle didn’t deserve some grief. “What time did you roll in anyway?” Physically and emotionally exhausted, Maya had been asleep.

Giselle mumbled into the pillow.

“Seriously? Four a.m.?” Maya pulled on the insulated boots she kept specifically for winter visits to Vermont. “What were you and Adam doing until … Scratch that. I don’t want to know.”

“Good. Going back to sleep now.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve morning.”

“Bah humbug.”

“You don’t mean that.” Maya’s cheeks warmed as she remembered the way she’d cuddled on the couch with Zach while Michael Caine as Ebenezer Scrooge endured the antics of Victorian-clothed Muppets, not to mention visits from three ghosts, four if you counted his business partner. She still couldn’t believe Zach had sat through the entire musical adaptation without making fun of it even once. He didn’t even roll his eyes during Tiny Tim’s famous
God bless us, everyone.

Maya had looked.

Instead, Zach had smiled and winked down at her, and her stomach had flipped. In a good way. Not in a nauseous way. She didn’t even want to think about what had ravaged her stomach last night. She’d lied to Zach saying food was the culprit because she didn’t want him to think she couldn’t bear the truth of his situation. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know details. Just imagining what Zach had seen and endured twisted her every which way and inside out.

Instead, she preferred to dwell on his kindness and the way her pulse had skipped when he’d held her close and kissed the top of her head. He’d done that before. Strictly platonic. But last night it had felt different.

At least for Maya.

For the first time in days, her mind flew to Charlie, her sometimes boyfriend. Right now they were in the friend phase, only he wanted much more. The problem was, so did Maya. Charlie was everything she hoped for in a life partner—kind, hardworking, reliable, fun, and optimistic. He was successful, too. But he’d never made her pulse skip or her heart flutter. The missing chip. A chip she’d found with her best friend, of all people. A man who lived life on the dark and dangerous side. Not Maya’s cup of tea, but a wonderful blend of person all the same. Any woman would be lucky to have Zachery Cole.

Tying off her laces, she rose and clomped over to the other twin bed. The one occupied by her partner, her friend, and, at this particular moment, a Scrooge. “How could you dump Zach like that?”

Giselle growled into the pillow, then showed at least half of her mascara-smudged face. “I didn’t dump him. I gave him an out. Zach was miserable. He didn’t want to be at the Shack with me. He wanted to be here with you.”

“Get … out.”

“Would you? Please?”

“He said he wanted to be with me?”

“He didn’t have to. He talked about you incessantly. How you met. What great
pals
you were. He must’ve told me a dozen different stories about one of the two of you bailing the other out of some or another jam.
Blah, blah, blah.
Then he asked me about our relationship—yours and mine. Our business and whatnot. When talk turned to me specifically…” She grunted. “Let’s just say, our time together roared downhill faster than a high-speed roller coaster.”

Maya frowned, going on sudden and unexpected defense for Giselle. “What? He didn’t think you were interesting? You’re one of the most fascinating people I know!”

“
Shh.
Not so loud.” Giselle covered her eyes with her arm. “Thank you for that, by the way. But we never really got to talking about the real me.”

“What do you mean?”

“He kept referring to the letters, Maya. The e-mails. Mostly your thoughts. Or my thoughts but written in your words. I didn’t realize I’d feel so bad about duping him. I felt awkward and pretty much fumbled the conversation. That’s when I pushed to play a game of pool. I thought if we met some other people I’d feel more comfortable and then Zach would get a chance to know the real me. Only that didn’t work out either. The more I loosened up the more he shut down. Not for anything, but that man is broody with a capital
B
.”

The same word Helen had used to describe Zach.
Huh.
Zach hadn’t struck Maya as broody. Then again, he’d been working hard to lighten Maya’s own mood. Just now she was fixated on something else Giselle had said. “‘Dupe’ is a strong word, don’t you think?”

“Pretty sure it’s the correct word for what we did.”

“You didn’t tell him, right?”

“And make him feel like a fool? The man’s suffering from a war wound. I don’t intend to add insult to injury.”

Maya’s stomach clenched as she picked at the hem of her cheery sweater. “Did he tell you how he got hurt?”

“No. You?”

“No.”

Maya’s mind twisted with several thoughts. Her own unexpected attraction to Zach aside, had she unwittingly ruined a potentially wonderful thing between her old best friend and her new best friend. As most of the Cupcake Lovers had pointed out, Zach and Giselle were indeed a physically striking couple. If Zach had truly wanted to be with Maya last night, in a sexual way, as G had intimated, wouldn’t he have made some sort of move? Kissing her head didn’t count, did it?

All sorts of confused, Maya rocked back on her Trekkers. All she wanted for anyone ever, and especially for friends and family, was a charmed life and a happily ever after.

“Are you sure you won’t join us for breakfast?” Maya asked.

“Are you still here?”

“The Coles always start holiday mornings with a scrumptious breakfast. Apple Cinnamon Pancakes with real butter and tons of pure Vermont maple syrup. Piles of crispy bacon—”

“Do you
want
me to hurl?”

“And then they do this old-fashioned sleigh ride which I think you’d really like—”

“Don’t take this wrong, Maya, but get lost.”

Maya knew Giselle well enough not to take the dismissal personally. Still, Maya felt awkward about the whole triangle thing and would feel better if G provided Zach with another chance to know her for real. Maya just wanted Zach to be happy. He deserved to be happy. And maybe reckless, carefree, absurdly beautiful Giselle (just Giselle) was the ticket. There had to be some sort of cosmic revelation, a Christmas miracle even, in the works. Everything was just too weird otherwise.

“I’ll ask Helen to save you some pancakes. You can nuke them. It won’t be the same, but—”

“Maya.”

“What?”

“Zach was especially keen on your marmalade fantasy.”

Chapter Six

Zach had gone to sleep dreaming about Maya and Muppets and a Scrooge getting a new lease on life. He’d woken up thinking about Ben, whose life had been snuffed in an ambush. Ben wouldn’t be getting a second chance at anything ever again. That thought filled Zach with grief and anger and, dammit, guilt, because he
had
been given a second chance. He just didn’t know what to do with it. Once a Marine, always a Marine. Only he wasn’t. Not in an active capacity. Not doing what he did best.

While Ben’s parents spent Christmas mourning their son’s death … While several of Zach’s buddies still risked their lives rooting out evil … Zach was here. In Sugar Creek. Eating decadent flapjacks soaked with syrup. Listening to his aunt and uncle arguing about post-Christmas sales—“Swear to gosh, Helen, if you buy one more ornament this house will explode!”—and watching a sun-bronzed blonde in a ridiculous reindeer sweater, chowing down on crispy bacon and a puffy pastry.

So wrong yet it felt so right, which only made Zach feel worse.

The guilt piled on and featherlight pancakes settled in Zach’s stomach like the craggy stones of insurgent-infested mountains.

“About the sleigh ride,” Zach started, only the phone rang.

“Hold that thought, sweetie,” Helen said as she headed for the landline.

“I could use more coffee,” Dan said as he stood. “What about you kids?”

“Sure,” Zach and Maya answered as one, just like twenty years ago when offered seconds on ice cream. Zach’s heart squeezed much like it had last night when Maya had snuggled next to him for the movie. There hadn’t been one sexy thing about that sappy musical and Maya hadn’t come on to him in any way, but he’d gone to bed randy. Desire pulsed even now. Even with his aunt and uncle in the room. Affection and desire—a powerful combination. Zach didn’t scare easily and he rarely second-guessed his gut feelings, but right now he felt close to clueless and paralyzed.

As soon as Dan moved to the counter, Maya leaned in. “Don’t you dare bail on the sleigh ride, Zachery Cole,” she ordered in a stern whisper.

“Who said—”

“It’s written all over your face. You look miserable.”

“I’m not—”

“Liar.”

Helen shuffled back to the table sporting a huge frown.

“Who was it? What did they want?” Dan asked while refreshing everyone’s mug.

“It was Ethel. Her nephew, John, came down with a virus. He won’t be able to deliver our care package to Roscoe Marx.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Dan said. “It’s not like Marx appreciates the Cupcake Lovers’ efforts. Has he ever said thank you? Has he ever even been cordial?”

“Who’s Roscoe Marx?” Zach asked.

“The grumpiest cuss in Franklin County,” Dan said.

“A war veteran,” Helen said. “And a recluse.” She turned to Maya. “As you know, the CL club was founded in the early forties by women whose husbands and sons were away fighting in WW Two.”

“Once a week they gathered at one of the members’ houses to enjoy the host’s featured cupcake,” Maya joined in. “They swapped recipes and shared news regarding loved ones. It was all about companionship and compassion.” She smiled. “I’ve always loved this story.”