The Christmas Wish (3 page)

Tess swallowed uncomfortably, remembering the stupid wish she’d made on the loading dock after Lucas left her on Friday night. She’d looked up at the sky and found the brightest star, closing her eyes and hearing the wish in her head before she had a chance to talk herself out of such silliness.

A light gasp interrupted her daydream, and she turned to find her mother behind her. Emma Branson may have been standing there for a while, watching her in the mirror, but Tess hadn’t noticed.

“Oh, Tessie,” her mother murmured, covering her mouth with her hands. “You look so beautiful.”

Tess smiled, smoothing her pants uncertainly. “Yeah?”

“Swear to God. You look like you’re goin’ to church…to a wedding or a Christmas party.”

“I’m not, mama. Just dinner.”

Emma’s face fell, jowls wobbling against the collar of her faded floral housedress. “With a man?”

“Uh-huh. But he asked me proper,” said Tess.

Her mother worried the Kleenex in her hands, looking nervous. “You comin’ back here later, Tessie?”

“I don’t know,” said Tess. But Jenny Lindstrom’s face flashed before her eyes and she changed her answer. “No, mama. I’m not inviting him back here later.”

“Even if the date goes good?”

Tess took another look at herself in the mirror, at her outward transformation from Fast Tessie to a nice-looking girl. The doorbell rang before Tess could answer her mother, but she thought,
Especially if the date goes good
.

She thought Jenny Lindstrom would be proud.

***

When Tess opened the door, Lucas felt his face break into the most unguarded smile he’d offered anyone in over four years. Man alive, she looked pretty. For him. She’d dressed up like this for him, an ugly ex-con with nothing to offer a pretty girl. His heart started thumping.

“Night, mama,” Tess called back into the house, closing the door behind her.

She struggled to put on her jacket as he watched, still a little dazed, but finally he reached out to give her a hand. He took the lapels, grazing her fingers, holding the jacket open so she could step into it. The jolt from touching her hand raced up his arm, making his throat dry and his cold cheeks hot.

“You look beautiful,” he said when she turned around, zipping up and smiling at him, then offered her his arm. They stepped onto the sidewalk and started walking toward town.

He’d seen her in little other than her work clothes, except for once or twice when he’d seen her in jeans—too-tight jeans—when she’d come in to pick up food on her day off. This was a different girl. This was a different
woman
.

“These are new clothes,” she admitted, a sheepish twinge to her voice. “I haven’t been on many, um, dates.
Real
dates. And I remembered an old friend of mine who dressed up when she…”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s silly and I’m not saying it right.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I saw her recently and she’s a ‘nice girl.’ Jenny Lindstrom. And she was dressed up all special for a date and I thought, well, maybe I could do that too. I could dress like a ‘nice girl,’ too.”

It hurt his heart to hear those words, and yet she offered them without a shred of self-pity, with nothing more than honesty and a hint of wistfulness.

“You
are
a nice girl,” he insisted.

She pressed on his arm, turning to him, making him stop walking and meet her eyes. “No, Lucas. I’m not.”

“I’m with you right now, and I say you are.”

“Wishing it’s true don’t make it so.”

“Sometimes wishes come true,” he murmured, thinking about his life exactly four months ago today. He’d had four more days left on his sentence. Locked up. Now here he was, taking the prettiest girl in Gardiner out for dinner.

“Haven’t we already had this conversation?” she teased, grinning. They started walking again.

“I have an idea,” he said. “Tell me who you wish you were. If you could be anyone.”

She chuckled lightly as her hand squeezed his arm. “Well, I’d wish folks were nicer to me, I guess. I know why they’re not. But I wish they’d give me a chance, you know? There’s more to me than…”

He covered her hand with his, encouraging her to keep going, but she stayed quiet. He asked gently, “What else?”

“What else? Oh, I don’t know. Well…maybe it would be nice to have a girlfriend. No, two!” She giggled, and the sound was like music to Lucas. “
Two
girlfriends. And we’d make popcorn and watch ‘The Bachelor’ together. And they’d come in to visit me while I was working and I’d give them free Cokes. And I wish I had”—her voice was softer now, and Lucas strained to hear her, sensing this part was especially important—“a boyfriend. Someone who liked me.
Really
liked me. Maybe even…”

“Maybe even what?”

“No. Nothing. That’s enough. Your turn. Who do you wish you were?”

“Huh,” he replied. He glanced over at her face as they walked across the bridge, the Yellowstone River rushing below. He stopped and loosened his arm from her hand, reaching for the railing, and she sidled up next to him, resting one elbow on the railing so she could look at him.

“I wish I’d never gone to prison. I wish my sister Joey hadn’t ended up marrying the guy who I beat up. I wish that I was still a movie theater manager in Missoula instead of a short-order cook in Gardiner. But, even if I was, I’d wish for this blond-haired, blue-eyed girl I know to be my girlfriend, because I really like her. Because she’s the nicest girl I know.”

He turned to look at her and saw her eyes brighten with tears. “You have to stop crying every time I’m good to you, Tess. Because I’m only going to treat you good. And I want you to—”

The last thing he expected was to suddenly feel her lips pressing into his, but it only took a moment for his arms to close around her, pulling her tight against his chest, tilting his head so their lips fit better together. She whimpered as he pushed his tongue gently between her lips, the smell of her tropical lip gloss driving him wild as her gloved hands slid up his chest to rest on his cheeks. Aside from the fact that he hadn’t kissed a woman in well over three years, he was smitten with Tess, really
into
her, and holding her in his arms felt better than he could have imagined.

But he also didn’t want for her to think she needed to be physical with him just because he was taking her to dinner. It seemed like the lines between offering herself to someone out of real affection and offering herself to someone for a thousand other bad reasons were very blurred for her. And frankly, unless she really liked him, unless she only wanted to be with him, he’d just as soon not make out with her, not fall for her.

He broke off the kiss, running his lips gently down her cheek to the soft, warm skin of her neck where he kissed her once lightly before drawing back to look into her eyes. She was worried. He could tell right away.

“Was that not okay?” she asked, brow furrowed, voice breathless.

“That was
amazing,”
he answered, holding her tighter against him. If she needed evidence that he was into her physically, for reassurance, she could have it.

Her eyes opened wide, flicking down as his hardness pushed against her. “Oh! Then why did you stop?”

“Because that’s not how I want to get to know you. I want to get to know who you are first.”

“Why?” she asked, her face so innocent and sweet, so surprised and hopeful, he wished he could memorize it.

“Because you’re worth knowing. Just for you. For what’s in here.” He raised one hand from the small of her back to tap lightly against the side of her head. “And here.” He lowered it to her chest, flattening it above her breasts where her heart was racing.

“Why me?” she asked, mesmerized.

“Because you remind me of someone,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her along lightly so they could resume their walk once again.

***

When they arrived at the Grizzly Guzzle Grill, the greeter, Sally Jansen, gave Tess a surprised once-over before turning up her nose.

“We’d like a table in the corner, please. Out of the way,” said Lucas evenly.

Sally smirked. “A little privacy, huh?”

“Exactly,” confirmed Lucas with a light smile, without any hint of smarmy suggestion.

They were seated at a corner table, just as he requested, and given two menus. Tess looked around nervously. She wanted tonight to be different and she couldn’t bear it if one of her “old friends” showed up to humiliate her with innuendo about the “good times” they’d spent together. Her hands sweated and she swallowed uncomfortably, sweeping the room with her eyes. It looked like luck was on her side tonight. She didn’t recognize anyone except for Lars Lindstrom, who was bartending. They’d never slept together, but they’d fooled around a time or two. Luckily, he gave her a kind smile and winked, and her shoulders relaxed in gratitude. Maybe it would be okay.

“So,” Lucas said, folding his menu and putting it flat on the table in front of him. “Christmas is on Friday. Did you get all of your shopping done today on your day off?”

“It’s just me and my mama,” she said.

“No siblings? Father?”

“My father stepped out before I was born. Stepfathers One and Two lasted for various Christmases but didn’t end up sticking around. Stepfather Three didn’t like Christmas, so that was that.”

She didn’t mention that Stepfather One had been the first to cop a feel of her budding breasts, and while he’d never molested her other young-lady parts, he’d found every excuse in the book for brushing against her chest. As a ten-year-old girl she’d been incredibly frightened but unwilling to rock the boat by telling her mother. Anyway, what would she have said?
Don always seems to brush into my chest while he’s serving himself mashed potatoes or helping me with my Sunday coat
. She’d chosen to ignore it instead. After a while, it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t matter because Tess didn’t matter.

Except, maybe it
should
have mattered and maybe it could
start
mattering. Maybe if she mattered to someone, things could be different. She looked up at Lucas, and her heart kicked into a gallop.

“No siblings?” he asked again.

“Nope. Just me.”

“Not much shopping to do, then,” he commented, looking up when the waitress arrived.

Tess couldn’t believe her bad luck.
Craaap.
Margit Johnson. Tess had inadvertently fooled around with Margit’s boyfriend Cliff in the ninth grade. It really wasn’t her fault; Cliff had insisted he and Margit had broken up and Tess had believed him…until Margit walked over to her desk the following day during study hall and smacked her hard in the face.
“That’s for putting your tongue in my boyfriend’s mouth, tramp!”

Tess swallowed nervously, bracing herself.

“Heya, Tessie,” Margit said, looking over at Lucas then back to Tess, a mean smirk on her face. “Welcoming a newcomer, huh? Tessie’s just about the most welcoming gal in town, aren’t ya, Tessie?”

Lucas acted like she hadn’t even spoken. “I’ll have a beer. Heineken.” He looked at Tess, smiling. “What do you want, Tess?”

“A Coke.”

“A cock?” asked Margit, with wide, innocent eyes.

“She said a Coke,” said Lucas quietly.

“Oh, my bad. A beer and a Coke. Back in a jiff.”

Tess watched Margit pivot away and head for the bar, the lump in her throat almost choking her. She shouldn’t be here. She had no business pretending to be a nice girl on a date with a nice man. Things weren’t going to change. Not ever.

“Don’t let it get to you,” said Lucas, reaching across the table and taking her hand.

Tess looked up into his eyes, his warm, kind brown eyes, and fanned her face with her free hand, trying to be brave, willing the gathering tears not to fall. “You can put lipstick on a pig,” she whispered. “But it’s still a pig.”

Anger blazed in his eyes and he squeezed her hand. Hard. Hard enough that it almost hurt. “I don’t give a shit what she just said, but don’t you
ever
say something like that about yourself again. Not in front of me, anyway.”

Her eyes widened and she tried to pull her hand away, but he held on tightly though more gently.

“Clear?” he asked.

She swallowed once, then nodded as her racing heart calmed. “Clear,” she answered.

Margit returned with their drinks and placed them down on the table. Lucas didn’t look up. Even when Tess’s eyes flicked up to say thanks to Margit, his were waiting for her when she looked back down.

“Anything else?” asked Margit.

Now Lucas looked up, his face hard. Hard like a man who’d been in prison and knew how to protect himself and the people he cared about. “Yeah. A better fucking attitude or a new waitress.”

That’s when, for the first time in her life, Tess Branson’s heart exploded with love.

Staring at Lucas’s badly broken nose in profile, Tess sighed. This wasn’t just physical desire. Or desperation for attention. Or the hope that someone would like her. Or the pathetic need to feel connected to someone. This was love. This was the act of her heart choosing his. It had to be, because she’d felt all the rest before and this was new. This was different, and for just a second it made her feel breathless and beautiful.

Margit slunk away, and Lucas returned Tess’s gaze, running his thumb gently back and forth against her wrist. He smiled at her, and his was, hands down, the most captivating smile she’d ever seen.

She never, ever wanted to look away.

***

Lucas stared back at Tess, marveling at the transformation in her expression as he stood up for her. It made him feel like a king, like a god, like someone handsome and upstanding and worthy of goodness in his life. Despite his beating a man almost to death, despite spending three years incarcerated, despite failing his little sister and having a face that would spoil milk, the look of admiration and approval in Tess Branson’s big blue eyes made Lucas Flynn feel like second chances were possible. Nothing showy or complicated. A little happiness, like what his folks had before his Pop passed away. He had a faint, fleeting memory of his father’s protective arm over his mother’s shoulders as his Pop’s gruff voice shared the secret to happiness:
It’s a simple recipe, son. A lot of goodness. A lot of loving. A little hard work.