Wicked Christmas Nights

As he approached, he noticed her reach up and swipe at her face with her fingertips, confirming that moisture had begun to drip. Ross dropped a hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

She nodded. Her voice low, she explained, “This is so pretty. I loved this game as a kid.”

“I was more of a Chutes and Ladders fan, myself.”

She barely smiled, and he regretted making light of it when something was on her mind.

As if knowing he was curious, she admitted, “I used to beg my mother to play with me all the time. She ran the business with my Dad, and had more time at home than a lot of moms, so I assumed that meant she was mine 24/7.”

“I think every kid feels that about their mom.”

“Well, I was pretty relentless, and eventually we had to start negotiating. ‘Just let me finish this paperwork, and I promise we’ll play one game of Candyland.’”

“Kinda like how my parents negotiated with me—eat one more green bean and you can have ice cream after dinner.”

She nodded. “Exactly. I outgrew the game, of course, but one day when I was older, it occurred to me that every time we had played, I would always get the Queen Frostine card within the first couple of hands. So I always won.”

He glanced at the board on display, seeing how close that particular character was to the winning space, and smiled slightly. “Quickly.”

She laughed. “Exactly. I was a world champion Candy-lander. My mom was a world champion cheater for fixing the deck so I’d get that card and win the game super-fast every time.”

“Did you confront her about it?”

“Uh-huh. When I was eleven or twelve.” Her laughter deepened. “She totally confessed, saying she’d never break a promise to me, and always played when she said she would. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t speed up the process a little.”

Her eyes, which had been sparkling with tears a few minutes ago, now gleamed with amusement. The warmth of the good memory had washed away, at least temporarily, whatever sadness she’d been feeling.

“I miss her a lot,” she admitted simply. “My dad, too. It’ll be five years Tuesday.”

He sucked in a surprised breath. She’d lost both parents, together, which could only mean some kind of tragedy. And just two days after Christmas…No wonder she’d just rather skip over the whole holiday season. Talk about mixing up happy thoughts with sad ones. “I’m so sorry, Lucy.”

“Me, too.” She glanced around the crowded store. “I guess you’ve figured out that’s why I’m not a big fan of the season.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s why my brother and I have unconventional holidays.”

But this year, she’d already told him, she wouldn’t be seeing her brother. And her roommate was going away. She would be entirely alone, surrounded by a merry world while she sunk deeper into memories of the past.

Not if he could help it. She wanted unconventional? Fine. One good way to start—how about Christmas with a near-stranger?

He lifted a hand to her face and brushed his fingertips across her cheek. “Well then, how about we make a deal? I promise not to sing any carols or serve you any eggnog…if you promise to spend this holiday weekend with me.”

A FEW HOURS later, after having shopped a little more and laughed a lot more, they grabbed some dinner, then headed back toward Lucy’s place. The tiny apartment she shared with Kate wasn’t too far away from Beans & Books, where Ross had left his truck. She told herself he was just escorting her home and would then leave. But in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help wondering just how much of the weekend he’d meant when he talked about them spending this holiday together.

And how much she wanted him to mean.

It was crazy, considering she’d dated Jude for three months and had barely let him onto second base, with one unsatisfying attempt to steal third. But she already knew she wanted Ross to hit the grand slam. What she felt when she was with him—savoring the warmth of his hand in hers, quivering when his arm accidentally brushed against her body, thrilling to the sound of his voice—was undiluted want. She’d heard it described, but now, for the first time, she felt it.

She knew she should slow it down. But something—not just the instant physical attraction, but also his warm sense of humor, his generosity, the sexy laugh—made him someone she didn’t want to let get away. So, when they got back to her building, she intended to invite him up for a drink. And then see what happened. Or make something happen.

She and Kate shared a small efficiency, whose rent was probably as much as a mortgage payment for places outside the city. Right now, the apartment was empty. Kate had left for the holidays—she’d called two hours ago, right before Teddy was picking her up. So the place was all Lucy’s for the weekend.

Hmm. Was it possible she was within hours of getting it at last? she didn’t mean getting laid, she meant finally understanding. Finally grasping what it was like to be so overcome by pleasure that you lost track of the rest of the world.

Her steps quickened. She was so anxious to get home, to start finding out if the weekend included nights or only daytime hours, she didn’t notice when Ross stopped walking. She finally realized it and looked over her shoulder, seeing him a half-dozen steps back. He stood in the middle of a crowded Sixth Avenue sidewalk, and was gazing up toward the sky.

No. Not the sky. Those twinkling lights weren’t stars. Instead, thousands of tiny bulbs set the night aglow, their gleam picked up by a sea of sparkling ornaments gently held in the arms of an enormous evergreen.

“Can you believe this is the first time I’ve seen it?” Ross asked, staring raptly at the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree.

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “It’s my first Christmas in the Big Apple, and I haven’t happened to be over this way for the past few weeks.”

Lucy might be Ebenezer’s long-lost twin sister, but she couldn’t be a scrooge when it came to seeing Ross with that delighted expression on his face. He looked like a kid. A big, muscular, incredibly handsome, sexy-as-sin kid.

She returned to his side, looking up at the tree. It was beautiful against the night sky, ablaze with light and color. Even her hardened-to-Christmas heart softened at the sight.

Saying nothing, Ross led her toward an empty bench ahead. It was night and the crowds had thinned to near-reasonable levels.

She sat beside him on the bench, giving him time to stare at the decor. But to her surprise, he instead looked at her. “Since this is probably as close to a tree as you’re going to get this year, do you want to open your present now?”

She glanced at the tattered box, which she’d lugged around all day. She could wait and open it when she got home, but somehow, this moment seemed right. “I already know what it is.”

“Really?”

“Well, not specifically.” She began plucking the still-damp packaging paper from the box. “Sam and I have this tradition.”

“I suspect it’s a nontraditional one.”

“You could say that.” She actually smiled as she tore off the last of the paper and lifted the lid. Jude might have broken her gift, but it was the joy of seeing what Sam had found that delighted her. No broken glass could take that away from her.

“Oh, my God,” Ross said, staring into the mound of tissue paper inside the box. “That is…is…”

“It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen,” Lucy said. She lifted her hand to her mouth, giggling. Jude’s petty destruction hadn’t done much to make this thing less appealing, because it had already been pretty damned hideous. “Isn’t it perfect?”

His jaw dropped open and he stared at her. “Seriously?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a nod. Then she lifted the broken snow globe, now missing glass, water and snow, and eyed the pièce de résistance that had once been the center of it. Sitting on a throne was the ugliest Santa Claus in existence. His eyes were wide and spacey, his face misshapen, his coloring off. His supposedly red suit was more 1970’s disco-era orange, and was trimmed with tiny peace signs. Beside him stood two terrifyingly emaciated, grayish children who looked like they’d risen from their graves and were about to zombiefy old St. Nick.

Hideous. Awful.

She loved it.

“Oh, this is so much better than what I got him—a dumb outhouse Santa complete with gassy sound effects.”

“Do you always give each other terrible presents?”

“Just for Christmas. He gives me snow globes, I give him some obnoxious Santa, often one that makes obscene noises.”

He chuckled. “My sisters would kill me if I did that.”

“It started as a joke—a distraction so we wouldn’t have to think too much about the way it used to be. And it stuck.”

She couldn’t be more pleased with her gift—unless, of course, it weren’t broken. But she wouldn’t let Sam know about that part. The center scene was the key.

Smiling, Lucy tucked the base of the globe back in the box, trying to avoid any bits of glass. But when she felt a sharp stab on her index finger, she knew she hadn’t been successful. “Ow,” she muttered, popping her fingertip into her mouth.

“Let me see,” he ordered.

She let him take her hand, seeing a bright drop of red blood oozing on her skin.

“We should go get something to clean this.”

“It’s okay, we’re not too far from my place…as long as you’re ready to leave?”

He rose, reaching for the now-open box, and extending his other hand to her. She gave him her noninjured one, and once she was standing beside him, he dropped an arm across her shoulders. Ross took one last look at the famous tree. Then, without a word, he turned to face her.

“I know this is cheesy and right out of a holiday movie,” he said, “but I’m going to do it anyway.”

She wasn’t sure what the it was, but suddenly understood when he bent to kiss her. People continued to walk all around them, street musicians played in the background, skaters called from the icy rink below. But all that seemed to disappear as Lucy opened her mouth to him, tasting his tongue in slow, lazy thrusts that soon deepened. It got hotter, hungrier. Both of them seemed to have lost any hint of the restraint that had kept them from getting this intense during their previous kiss.

Ross dropped his arm until his hand brushed her hip, his fingertips resting right above her rear, and Lucy quivered, wanting more. A whole lot more.

“Get a room!” someone yelled.

The jeer and accompanying laughter intruded on the moment. Sighing against each other’s lips, they slowly drew apart.

“Thank you,” he said after a long moment, during which he kept his hand on her hip. “I can check that off my bucket list.”

“Kissing in front of the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree?”

“No. Kissing you in front of the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree.”

She couldn’t keep the smile off her face as they began walking the several blocks to her apartment building. Ross carried not only the bag with his robotic dinosaur, but also her snow globe. He had insisted on wrapping a crumpled napkin around her fingertip, but she didn’t even feel the sting of the cut anymore. Because the closer they got to home, the more she wondered what was going to happen when they arrived. That kiss had been so good, but also frustrating since she wanted more.

Much more.

Unfortunately once they reached her building, and she looked up and saw what looked like every light in her apartment blazing, she realized she wasn’t going to get it. Damn. “I guess Kate didn’t leave, after all,” she said, wondering why her friend had stuck around. It was nearly 10:00 p.m.; Kate and Teddy were supposed to get on the road hours ago.

“Your roommate’s still here?”

“Sure looks like it. No way would she leave all the lights on—she’s a total nag about our electric bill.”

Ross nodded, though he averted his gaze. She wondered if it was so he could disguise his own disappointment.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t had dates up to her place before; Jude had been over numerous times. It was just, she’d wanted to be alone with Ross. Really alone. And there was no privacy to be had in her apartment. She slept in one corner on a Murphy bed, with just a clothesline curtain for a wall, and Kate used the daybed that doubled as a couch the rest of the time.

Being with him in a confined space, under the amused, knowing eyes of her roommate, would be beyond torturous.

He seemed to agree. “What time should I come tomorrow?”

She raised a brow.

“You promised me the holiday weekend, remember?”

“You really meant that?”

He lifted both hands and cupped her face, tilting it up so she met his stare. “I absolutely meant that.”

Then he bent down and kissed her again. He kept this one light, sweet, soft. Still, Lucy moaned with pleasure, turning her head, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair. Once again, the damned box was between them, and now, a dinosaur was, too. But maybe that was for the best. Kissing him—feeling the warm stroke of his tongue in her mouth—was too exciting. If his hot, hard body were pressed against her, she’d be tempted to drag him up the stairs and see just how much privacy a clothesline curtain offered.

Ross ended the kiss and stepped back. “Good night, Lucy Fleming. I’m really glad I met you.”

“Ditto,” she whispered.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

Then, knowing she needed to get away now, while she had a brain cell in her head, she edged up the outside steps. She offered him one last smile before jabbing her finger on the keypad to unlock the exterior door, then slipped inside.

Her heart light as she almost skipped up the stairs, she felt like whistling a holiday tune. For the first time in several years, Lucy was actually looking forward to Christmas Eve. Because she had someone so special to share it with.

As she opened the apartment door, she looked around the tiny space for her roommate. “I thought you’d be long gone by now,” she called.

Kate didn’t respond. Lucy walked across the living room to the galley kitchen, peering around the corner, seeing no one. Then she noticed the thin curtain that shielded her bed from the rest of the apartment shimmy. Strange. “Katie?”

The curtain moved again, this time fully drawning back. Lucy’s mouth fell open as she saw not her pretty roommate but someone she’d truly hoped to never see again. “Jude?”

“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for hours.”

“What do you think you’re doing here? How did you get in?”

“Had a key made a couple of weeks ago.” He smiled thinly, stepping closer, a slight wobble in his steps. Drunk. “It’s my birthday. You never gave me my present. I’ve been waiting for it a long time and expected to get it tonight.”

He stepped again. This time, Lucy saw a gleam in his eye that she didn’t like. Jude suddenly didn’t look like a drunk boy. More like a determined, vengeful man. One who might like her to think he was a little more intoxicated than he truly was.

She edged backward.

“Where you going? C’mon, you’re not really mad, are you? You know I don’t care anything about that skank. I was just frustrated, waiting for you. Guys have needs, you know.” He stepped again, moving slightly sideways, and she suddenly realized he was trying to edge between her and the door.

This was serious. Kate was gone, her next door neighbor was practically deaf and few people were out on the street in this area this late. And Jude knew all of those things.

“I still can’t believe you got some dude to come with you to my apartment,” he said, his eyes narrowing and his mouth twisting. “That was wrong, to bring some stranger into this.”

Ross. Oh, God, did she wish she’d invited him up!

Lucy’s thoughts churned and she went over her options, none of which included intervention by a knight in shining armor, or a carpenter in brown leather. Her brother had drilled college rape statistics into her head before she’d ever left home. He’d also taught her a few defensive moves. But better than trying to physically fight Jude would be to get him to leave.

She began thinking, mentally assessing everything in the apartment, knowing the knives in the kitchen were none too sharp. He now stood between her and the door. Her cell phone was in her purse and they didn’t have a land line—not that anybody she called, including the police, would get here for a good ten or fifteen minutes. In that time, he could do a lot. And, she suspected, that’s exactly what he intended to do.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, a sly smile widening that petulant mouth. “Don’t you want to give me something for my birthday? After making me wait all this time, you owe me.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” she snapped, curling her hands into fists, deciding to go for the Adam’s apple.

“Yeah, bitch, you do,” he snarled, the mask coming off, the pretense cast aside. Any hint of the sloppy drunk disappeared as he rushed her, the rage in his expression telling her he was fully aware and cognizant of what he was doing.

But so was Lucy. She sidestepped him, kicking at his kneecaps with the thick heels of her hard leather boots. He stumbled, fell against the daybed and knocked over a lamp.

Not wasting a second, she headed for the door, hearing his roar of rage as he lunged after her. His fingers tangled in her hair and she was jerked backward. Ignoring the pain, she spun around and slashed at his face with her nails.

“Little cock-tease,” he yelled.

Then there was another roar of rage. Only this one didn’t come from Jude. It came from behind her, from the door to the apartment, which she’d neglected to lock when she came in.

Ross. He was here. Against all odds, for who knew what reason, he’d come up and gotten here just in time.

Stunned, Lucy watched as he thundered past her, tackling Jude around the waist and taking him down. A handful of her hair went with them, but she was so relieved, she barely noticed.

“You slimy sack of shit!”

The two guys rolled across the floor, knocking over furniture. Jude squirmed away and tried to stagger to his feet. Ross leaped up faster, his fists curled, and let one fly at Jude’s face. There was a satisfying crunching sound, then blood spurted from that perfect, surgically enhanced nose.

Jude staggered back. “Dude, you broke my nose!”

Ross ignored him, striking again, this time landing a powerful fist on her would-be rapist’s stomach. Jude doubled over, then collapsed onto the day bed, wailing.

Ross gave him a disgusted sneer before turning his attention to Lucy. “Are you all right? Did he…”

“No, I’m okay,” she said, shaking as it sunk in just how bad this could have been. “Thank you.”

“I was a block away, when I realized I was still holding your present from your brother.” He gestured toward the floor, where the package lay. “I heard yelling from outside. Fortunately I remembered the numbers you hit on the keypad.”

Thank God.

“I’m gonna have you arrested for assault!” Jude raged as he staggered back to his feet.

“Okay, sure. We’ll share the back of the police car as you’re hauled in for attempted rape,” Ross replied, fury sparking off him as he took a threatening step toward Jude.

The other man dropped his shaking hand, eyeing Lucy, his mouth quivering. “Wait, I didn’t mean…I wouldn’t have…”

“Yes, you would have,” she replied, knowing it was true. “And I am pressing charges.”

“Don’t—my parents…I could lose my internship! I’m sorry, I guess I just went a little crazy.”

She didn’t feel any sympathy for him. But she was worried about Ross. He was a carpenter, a flat-broke out-of-towner, and Jude was the only son of a rich corporate shark. Lucy only had her word to convince anyone that Jude had attacked her.

Well, that and a probable bald spot.

She needed to think about this. “Just go,” she said, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

“Thank you!”

“I’m not promising you anything. At the very least, I’m reporting you to campus security and to the dean’s office.”

Jude’s bottom lip pushed out in an angry pout. But Ross cut him off before he could say a word. “Get the fuck out, before I hurt you some more.”

Shutting his mouth, Jude beelined for the door, giving Ross a wide berth, as if not trusting him not to lash out. Probably a good call, considering Ross was visibly shaking with anger.

Just before he left, Jude cast Lucy one more pleading glance. She ignored him, focused only on Ross. Her knight in shining armor, whether he saw it that way or not.

Lucy had never been the kind of girl who wanted to be rescued. Nor had she ever thought she’d need to be. But tonight, that Galahad riding in on the proverbial white horse thing had come in incredibly handy.

Once they were alone, Ross strode to the door, flipping the lock. When he returned, he didn’t hesitate, walking right to her with open arms. Lucy melted against his hard body, letting go of the anxiety of the past ten minutes and just holding on, soaking up his warmth and his concern. He kept stroking her, running his fingers through her hair, tenderly rubbing tiny circles on the small of her back. Murmuring soft words into her ear.

It was, quite honestly, the most protected and cherished she’d felt in years.

“It’s okay, Luce, he’s gone. He’s gone.”

Finally, after several long moments, he pulled back a few inches and looked down at her. “You shouldn’t stay here alone.”

No, she probably shouldn’t. “He said he made a key…”

“You’re definitely not staying then.” He mumbled a curse and stiffened, and she knew he was mad at himself for not getting the key back before Jude had left.

“I guess I could go to a hotel…”

“Screw that,” he muttered, looking at her with an incredulous expression, as if she’d said something absolutely ridiculous. “Pack a bag, you’re coming home with me.”

7

Now

Chicago, December 24, 2011

ROSS WAS AT his parents’ house outside of the city when the call came in about Chip being taken to the hospital. The caller told him the elderly man had gone outside to deal with an accident, and the exertion of helping to push a car out of the snow had apparently caused a heart attack.

The police officer who called didn’t have any more information, but that was enough to send Ross back into town. He didn’t have the phone numbers of the other guards with him, nor could he be sure they’d be able to go in to the office. He had no idea whether Chip had even locked the main doors when he’d gone out to help the driver, so somebody had to get in there. And the buck always stopped at the boss’s desk.

The drive would be bad, and he already knew he’d have to spend the night at the office. Fortunately Stella had made up the fold-out sofa in his office. Besides, while everyone was disappointed—especially his older sister, who’d just arrived with her family for the holidays—he couldn’t deny he wouldn’t mind getting away from all the holiday cheer. He hadn’t been able to take his mind off Lucy, and the longer he stayed, the more likely it was somebody would notice. He just didn’t feel like explaining his mood to a nosy sibling or parent.

It was nearly 2:00 a.m. by the time he arrived—the trip had taken three exhausting, stress-filled hours. The plows were barely managing to keep up with the thick snow—he’d earned a few scolding stares from their drivers as he followed them down newly plowed stretches of highway.

The private parking lot wasn’t plowed, of course, and he was glad he drove a monster SUV that could clear the already foot-high drift. Parking, he bundled up, then stepped outside, his body immediately battered by the wild wind. It howled eerily in the night and the snow seemed to be moving in all directions—up, down, sideways. Not that he could see much of it in front of his face, and he suddenly realized why.