Stocking Stuffer, page 6
I got you out of my system, Mack. Once and for all.
She slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. Then she left his room and tiptoed down the hall to her own. She took a quick shower, dried her hair and changed into a warm winter outfit before she called her mom.
“The power’s back on, thank God. I’ve been on the phone with Judy Macholan.”
Mack’s mom?
“How are the roads?” Bailey tried to change the subject.
“Decent. The snowplows were out all night. Your father went to the store an hour ago and said it was pretty clear to drive. I think you can make it from your hotel.”
“Okay. I should be home in less than an hour.” She hung up and quickly packed her suitcase and headed downstairs to check out of the hotel.
As she paid her bill, she saw one of the men who had been making sexist comments at her from the bar last night. He didn’t recognize her now, though. She walked straight toward him as he prepared his coffee from the lobby bar. With perfect execution, she bumped into him, and he hissed as the scalding-hot cup he’d been about to put a lid on splattered all over his chest, ruining his dress shirt.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” she cooed falsely and patted his chest with a single napkin, nonchalantly smearing coffee about. He glared at her.
“This was a three-hundred-dollar shirt,” he growled.
“Was it?” she replied, faking her best innocent look. She didn’t miss the wedding band on his finger. “Better be careful—your wife might stuff your stocking full of coal if she knew how you treated Santa’s elves.”
Bailey burned the stupid expression on his face into her mind as she wheeled her suitcase out the door, trying not to laugh. As it turned out, her mother was right. The roads were clear, and she was able to get home in forty-five minutes. When she got out of the car, she saw Mack’s mom at the Macholans’ mailbox.
“Bailey! You’re home!” Judy greeted and tramped toward her in the snow.
“Mrs. Macholan, how are you?” Bailey had to control the sudden flare of panic. She felt like she had the words I slept with your son painted on her forehead.
“Great! I heard from your mother that you’re working at Trouble Inc. Did your mother tell you that Mack works at Trouble Inc. too? He’s in the engineering department.” Judy was positively beaming as she shared that.
“Oh? I didn’t know,” she lied. “Small world, huh?” She removed her suitcase from her trunk.
“Definitely small,” Judy agreed. “He’s home this year too. It would be fun for you two to catch up. You were always so close as kids.”
“We were, but you know how things go. You grow up and grow apart.”
Judy’s lips quivered slightly, and she tried to smile.
“Bailey, what happened between you? You and Mack just stopped hanging out after prom, and I was worried . . . well, that something happened.”
Bailey wanted this conversation to end, and decided if she told Mack’s mom the truth it would put an end to their mothers’ scheming.
“Nothing happened, Mrs. Macholan, and that’s the problem.”
Judy’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Oh . . .”
“Well, um . . . Merry Christmas, Mrs. Macholan.”
“Merry Christmas, Bailey. Tell your mother we’ll see you all tonight.”
“Okay. Wait, what?” Bailey halted and faced Judy.
“You’re coming over to our house for Christmas Eve. Jenna is here for her engagement party and wanted to have you all come over. So, we’ve invited you all.”
Crap . . . Mack and I are going to have to see each other tonight?
Judy smiled hesitantly. “Mack will be here tonight. Is that okay?”
“It is,” Bailey assured her smoothly.
“Well, good. I hope you have a fun time tonight. Your mom and I wanted to have Christmas Eve together like we had when you were kids.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Bailey said.
“Well, don’t let me keep you. It’s cold out here, so go on and we’ll see you tonight.”
Bailey rolled her suitcase up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Her father answered, grinning as he pulled her into his arms. He was a tall, well-built man in his sixties with eyes like hers, a warm shade of hazel-brown.
“Bailey, you survived the blackout?”
“I did,” she laughed. “The hotel had no power half the night. But we were okay.”
“We?” Her father caught on to the word she let slip out.
“Yeah . . . the other hotel guests,” she covered quickly.
“Right . . . Well, come and help your mother. She’s elbow-deep in cookie dough and in desperate need of reinforcements.”
“How did you escape cookie duty?” she asked as her dad lifted her suitcase inside the house and rolled it toward the stairs for her.
“I’m late setting up my train.” He winked and nodded at the mess of train tracks in a heap by the Christmas tree in the living room.
“Nice. Do you need me to help?” Bailey whispered conspiratorially.
“Honey, is that Bailey?” her mother called from the kitchen.
“Yeah, Mom, it’s me.” She shrugged out of her tan knee-length wool coat and tried not to laugh when her father gave her a mock salute and turned toward his train set.
Bailey found her mom in the kitchen, frantically loading up a tray of cookie dough balls on the still-hot cookie sheet. The bar countertop dividing the kitchen from the family room was covered in plates of sugar cookies, crackles, peanut butter kiss cookies, and gingerbread snaps. Flour and sugar dusted the surfaces of the island and the counter by the oven.
“Open the oven for me,” her mother ordered as she dropped the last ball of cookie dough on the cookie sheet then carried the tray toward the oven.
Bailey opened the door for her mother, who placed the cookies in the oven.
“Set the timer for thirteen minutes, and I’ll get the next batch ready,” her mother said.
Relieved, Bailey settled into the mode of prepping cookies. It was nice to have something to do with her hands, and it was a busy enough task that her mind couldn’t stay completely fixed on Mack and how she had left him alone in bed this morning. Whenever she and her mother had a brief pause, thoughts of Mack came rushing back.
“I talked to Judy when I got here,” she said to her mother.
“Oh?”
“Uh-huh. Apparently, we’re going over there tonight for Christmas Eve dinner?”
“Yes,” her mother said and shot her a look. “That’s okay with you, right?”
“Yeah, of course,” Bailey replied with a pretend smile.
“Good, because Mack is home this year. It’s been too long since you’ve seen him. It will be good for you to catch up.”
“For sure.” Bailey kept quiet while her mom shared updates on all their neighbors.
“Mr. McGinty is going to be in A Christmas Carol this year at the community theater.”
“Old grumpy McGinty?” She choked on a laugh. She and Mack used to throw water balloons at him and steal the strawberries that he grew every year in his garden.
“Yes, and we have tickets for it this evening after dinner.”
“Can we have a Christmas some year where we just stay at home?” Bailey sighed. She wasn’t up to all the society events, not this year.
Her mother rolled her eyes. “We are staying at home. It’s just one party and one play. I think you’ll survive.”
Four hours later, Bailey was up in her childhood bedroom digging through the old box of decorations that were hers, ones that she’d put up in her bedroom.
“Mom?” she called down the stairs.
“Yes, dear?” Her mother’s head appeared at the foot of the stairs.
“Where is my old jingle bell? The one in the velvet box?”
“The one Mack gave you?”
“Yeah.” She stared at the storage tub of old strings of lights and ornaments.
“It should be in the box.”
Bailey dug around until she found it at the very bottom and lifted the old velvet box up and opened it. The large silver jingle bell was nestled in the velvet. She lifted it up and gave it a good shake. Nothing happened. It was silent. Broken. A quiet despair filled Bailey’s chest as she gave it another shake, but still no sound came through. It was like the last of her happy childhood memories had died with the loss of the bell’s sound.
She slumped down on the bed and after a moment put the bell back in the box and closed the lid.
The house phone rang, and a moment later her mother called up the stairs.
“Bailey, phone for you!”
Bailey put the velvet box on her nightstand, got up and called back down to her mother.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Mack!” her mother shouted back.
Mack was calling her? She picked up the house phone from its charging cradle on her desk and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Turn around, Bells,” Mack’s deep voice said. She turned around so she faced her window, and across the fifteen feet that separated their houses she saw Mack standing in his old bedroom, smirking at her as he held his own house phone to his ear. He looked sexy in a pair of blue jeans and a loose cream colored fisherman’s sweater.
“I can’t believe you still remember this number,” she said, unable to hide a smile.
“I think I dialed this number more than my own as a kid. Hell, one time I woke your parents up after a party when I needed a ride home. I was too drunk to realize I’d called your house, not mine. Your dad actually showed up to come get me. He never told my parents.”
“What party was that?” Bailey asked.
“Andrew Givens’s party. I was only sixteen. You were still in middle school.”
“Oh, right.” God, those two years between them had felt like a century back then.
“Anyway,” he chuckled. “I didn’t have your cell phone number, and I thought it would be a good idea to continue this conversation where our moms might not eavesdrop.”
They were fifteen feet apart, yet it felt like he was standing right in front of her, his voice in her ear, and she could almost imagine the feel of his warm, hard body against hers . . .
Heat suffused her face. “Yeah, good idea.” She gave him her cell number, and then they both hung up their house phones. She stood there, staring at him as he dialed her number on his cell. Then he put his phone to his ear and came toward the window and braced his arms on the windowsill. He gazed at her, and she couldn’t look away as she pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket and answered it.
“Now, let’s talk about this morning,” he said softly, more seductively. She stared at his lips as they moved, all too aware of what those lips and tongue could do to her.
God, this man was always going to be catnip to her, wasn’t he? And now that she knew what it was like to be his . . . it was even harder to deny the pleasure he could give her.
“What about this morning?” She went to her own window and leaned against it, staring back at him.
“I’ve decided I’m not done with us.”
Her heartbeat ticked up in excitement, and she sucked in a breath.
“Us?” she repeated.
“Yeah. Last night was too damn good. Why give us only one night? Why not give us another couple of nights? Then . . . we can go back to our separate lives.”
“So, what, we sneak around? You think our mothers won’t figure it out?” she challenged, but damn him, he was right. She wanted more of them too; she didn’t want to be done either. It was a bad idea, but she couldn’t find it in her to care enough to be sensible when it came to him now that she knew what it felt like to be with him.
“That depends. Can you be quiet?” His whispered voice was in her ear, sending delicious chills down her spine and waking up every feminine part of her. “I love it when you scream, but I might just have to put my hand over your mouth while I fuck you.” He continued to stare at her, hunger making his silver eyes glow.
Bailey drew in a shaky breath. “Let me think about it.” But as she hung up, she felt her body had already made the decision. They both stared at each other for a long moment, the distance between them infinite and yet too close. His gaze wandered leisurely up and down her body, and she wondered how many times he’d looked toward her window as a teenager like she had his. He put his cell phone in his jeans pocket, and with a promising look and a rakish wink at her, he left his boyhood bedroom and turned out the light.
Holy hell . . . Her stocking was going to be stuffed to the brim with coal.
Mack chuckled to himself as he left his bedroom. He had definitely affected her. That was good, because after waking up this morning and finding himself alone in bed, he had taken her leaving as a blow to his ego. Hell, more than that, he’d been hurt, and he didn’t like admitting that. He’d never had a woman try to escape his bed that fast the following morning. Usually, he was the one sneaking off before breakfast. But she’d snuck out on him. So he was going to give her sweet, delicious torture until she admitted that last night wasn’t enough.
He headed downstairs and found his mom putting the finishing touches on the large dining room table. His cousin Jenna was helping her.
“Hey, little cuz,” he greeted and hugged her. “When did you get here?”
“About five minutes ago. Rob is outside with Uncle Mike.”
“Oh? Introduce me?” he asked with an evil grin.
Jenna laughed and punched him in the shoulder. “Only if you behave. He’s wonderful, and I don’t want you scaring him off before the wedding.”
Mack crossed his finger in an X shape over his heart. “I’ll be good.” He did, however, vow silently to assess this “Rob” because Jenna was his favorite cousin. Her mother, Maggie, and his mother, Judy, were sisters only a year apart, and Jenna had spent most of her summers with Mack’s family after her father died when she was twelve. She was Bailey’s age, and they had gotten along really well.
He followed Jenna outside, where Mack’s father, Mike, and a man around Mack’s age stood. A set of reindeer that would light up at night lay on the snow-covered lawn in the backyard by the storage shed.
“Rob, this is my cousin, Montgomery.” She nodded at the dark-haired man beside Mack’s father.
Mack held out a hand. “Everyone calls me Mack.”
“Rob Harrison. Nice to meet you.” Rob shook Mack’s hand.
“I’ll leave you boys to it,” Jenna said, then paused. “Hey, Mack, is Bailey coming over tonight? I told your mom to invite the Willis family.”
“Er, yeah, she is,” Mack replied.
“Good. I miss that girl.” Jenna grinned and headed inside.
“Who is Bailey?” Rob asked.
“Who is Bailey?” Mack’s dad chuckled. “She’s Mack’s other half.”
Mack glared at his father.
“Really?” Rob smiled as he obviously sensed he was being let in on an inside family joke.
“Yep. Childhood sweethearts, those two. Not sure why they’ve been avoiding each other the last few years. Seems silly, if you ask me.”
Mack inwardly winced. His father had definitely noticed way too much. Mack had never really thought about whether his avoidance of Bailey had been obvious to his family or not. He’d always spun elaborate tales every other year about how the trip he was taking was best done in December, either for smaller crowds or cheaper travel costs.
“So, what’s with the reindeer?” Mack asked his dad in a somewhat brusque tone.
“Oh, we’re going to put them up in the front yard.” His father waved vaguely toward the house. “Your mother thought they would be cute or something. I think she just wants the men out of the way so she, Jenna, and Maggie can talk wedding plans.”
“Don’t you need to be in there, Rob?” Mack asked.
“Nope,” Rob chuckled. “Whatever Jenna wants is what I want too.”
“Smart man.” Mack’s father slapped Rob on the back. “Now, let’s go set these up.”
The three of them carried the reindeer to the front yard and were nearly finished setting them up when an old man in his Sunday best tweed suit strolled by them on the sidewalk. He was a slightly rotund man, with a pale grayish beard that touched his collarbones.
“McGinty! Merry Christmas! Can’t wait to see you tonight!” Mack’s father waved at the old man. McGinty nodded politely, waved his walking cane at them, and continued toward his house.
“Jenna said you guys used to pull pranks on him,” Rob said with a laugh.
“Only a little. We mostly stole the vegetables and fruits he grew in his garden.” Mack frowned, realizing how stupid it sounded saying that out loud as an adult.
“So he’s going to be in some Christmas play we’re going to tonight?” Rob asked Mack as they finished plugging in the last of the reindeer’s power cords to the extension cord that ran from the house.
“I think he’s supposed to play Ebenezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol tonight.” Mack turned his head and out of the corner of his eye caught sight of something moving. He stilled and stared at Bailey. She was standing in front of the big picture window in their living room, hanging an ornament on the tree. She wore a red-and-black Buffalo plaid dress that came down to mid-thigh. Her light brown hair bounced in soft curls against her back and shoulders as she moved.
God, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Who’s that?” Rob asked.
“That is the infamous Bailey.” Mack’s father chuckled again.
Mack stood outside for a long moment, drinking in the sight of her before he went back into his own house. He was going to find a way to get her alone tonight.
Six
Bailey stepped into the Macholans’ house later that night, following her parents. The place was decorated for Christmas in every room and music filled the entryway. The scent of cinnamon and cookies danced all the way from the Macholan kitchen to the front part of the house. A pang of longing hit her hard. This place had been a second home once. She’d lived here almost as much as she had at her own home. Nothing had really changed, except a few updated furniture pieces. It was still the warm, welcoming home of the Macholan clan.
