by Lisa Kleypas
“If this had been a date,” Mark had told her afterward, “it would have been the best one of my life.”
“It was good practice,” Maggie had said with a laugh, “for when you really go out with someone.”
But even to herself, she had sounded false and hollow.
During the weeks leading up to Christmas, the island bustled with holiday activities, concerts, celebrations, lighting contests, and festivals. What Holly looked forward to the most was the annual lighted boat parade. Held by the Friday Harbor Sailing Club and the San Juan Island Yacht Club, it was a flotilla of decorated and fully lit vessels that went from Shipyard Cove to the yacht club and back. Even the boaters who didn’t join the parade strung their boats with lights. The last boat in the flotilla would be the Santa Ship, from which Santa would disembark at the Spring Street dock. He would be met by musicians, and ride on a fire truck to the convalescent center.
“I want to watch it with you,” Holly had told Maggie, who had promised she would walk to the dock after closing the shop, and meet them there.
The dock and surrounding area was massively crowded, however, and the cheerful clamor of parade-goers and carolers was near-deafening. Maggie wandered through the multitude, past clusters of families with children, and couples, and groups of friends. The lighted boats glittered and sparkled in the darkness, eliciting cries of excitement from the crowd. With a sinking heart, Maggie realized she wasn’t going to be able to find Holly and Mark easily, if at all.
It was okay, she told herself. They would have a good time without her. She wasn’t part of the family. If Holly was disappointed that she hadn’t shown up, it wouldn’t last for long.
But none of that helped to ease the tightness of Maggie’s throat, or the pressure of anxiety in her chest. She kept searching through the crowd, past family after family.
She thought she heard her name in the tumult. Stopping, she turned and scanned her surroundings. She caught sight of a girl in a pink winter coat and a red hat. It was Holly, standing with Mark, waving to her. With a small gasp of relief, Maggie made her way to them.
“You missed some of the boats,” Holly exclaimed, taking her hand.
“Sorry,” Maggie said breathlessly. “It was hard to find you.”
Mark smiled and put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her against his side. He glanced down at her face as he felt her drawing in deep draughts of air. “You okay?” he asked.
Maggie smiled and nodded, dangerously close to tears.
No, she thought. I’m not okay. She felt like she had just had one of those dreams in which she had been trying to find someone or something that was always out of reach, one of those stumbling-around, panicky nightmares. And now she was where she most wanted to be, with the two people in the world she most wanted to be with.
It felt so right that it scared her.
“You’re sure you don’t want to get a tree?” Mark asked the next Monday, as Maggie helped him to load a perfect Douglas fir onto his truck.
“I don’t need one,” she said cheerfully, sniffing the fresh traces of sap on her gloves while he tied the tree down. “I always spend Christmas in Bellingham.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Christmas Eve.” Seeing his slight frown, Maggie said, “Before I go, I’ll leave a present for Holly under the tree, so she can open it Christmas morning.”
“She’d rather open it with you there.”
Maggie blinked, uncertain how to reply. Did that mean he wanted her to spend Christmas with him? Was he thinking about inviting her? “I always stay with my family on Christmas,” she said warily.
Mark nodded, letting the subject drop. He drove her to the house at Rainshadow Vineyard, and together they wrestled the tree inside.
It was quiet in the house, with Holly still at school. Sam had gone to Seattle to visit friends and to do some holiday shopping.
Maggie smiled as she saw the proliferation of white paper snowflakes hanging from doorways and ceilings. “Someone’s been busy.”
“Holly learned to make them in school,” Mark said. “Now she’s turned into a one-woman snowflake factory.”
He started a fire in the fireplace, while Maggie unwrapped packages of white twinkle lights for the tree.
Within an hour, they had set the tree in its stand and strung it with lights. “Now for the magical part,” Maggie said, wedging her way into the narrow space behind the tree. She plugged the light strand in, and the tree began to glimmer and sparkle.
“It’s not magic,” Mark said, but he was smiling as he stood back to view the tree.
“What is it, then?”
“A system of tiny bulbs illuminated by the movement of electrons in semiconductor material.”
“Yes.” Maggie held up a forefinger significantly as she approached him. “But what makes them twinkle?”
“Magic,” he said in resignation, his lips twitching.
“Exactly.” She gave him a satisfied grin.
Mark slid his hands through her hair and grasped her head, and looked at her. “I need you in my life.”
For a moment Maggie couldn’t move or breathe. The statement was startling in its bluntness, in its directness. She couldn’t turn away, could only stare at him, mesmerized by the expression in his blue-green eyes.
“Not long ago I told Holly that love is a choice,” Mark said. “I was wrong. Love isn’t a choice. The only choice is what you’re going to do with it.”
“Please,” she whispered.
“I understand what you’re afraid of. I understand why this is so hard for you. And you can choose not to take a chance. But I’m going to love you anyway.”
Maggie closed her eyes.
“You’ve got all the time you need,” she heard him say. “I can wait until you’re ready. I just had to tell you how I feel.”
She still couldn’t look at him. “I may never be ready for the kind of commitment you want. If you were just asking for meaningless sex, it would be no problem. That I could do. But you—”
“Okay.”
Her eyes flew open. “Okay what?”
“I’ll take the meaningless sex.”
Maggie stared at him in bewilderment. “You just said you were willing to wait!”
“I’m willing to wait for commitment. But in the meantime I can settle for sex.”
“So…you would be fine with a physical relationship that’s going nowhere?”
“If that’s your best offer.”
Staring at him, Maggie saw the glint of laughter deep in his eyes. “You’re jerking my chain,” she said.
“No more than you’re jerking mine.”
“You don’t think I’ll go through with it, do you?”
“No,” he said gently, “I don’t.”
Maggie was too worked up to be able to sort through the entire tangle of emotions inside her. There was indignation, fear, alarm, even a touch of amusement…but none of that was responsible for the vibrant, shivery heat that had begun to pump through her entire body. The sensation collected in places that deepened her flush and made her awareness of him unbearable. She wanted him, right then, with a stomach-lifting, heart-pounding, dizzying need.
Maggie was dimly amazed that her voice was steady as she asked, “Where’s your bedroom?”
She had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen, the glint of amusement vanishing.
Mark led the way upstairs, glancing at her at intervals as if to make certain she was still with him. They went into his room, clean and sparely furnished, the walls painted a neutral color that was indistinguishable in the weak December daylight.
Before she could lose her nerve, Maggie stepped out of her shoes and stripped off her sweater and jeans. The cool air of the bedroom made her shiver as she stood there in her underwear. Mark approached her, and she lifted her head to see that he had taken off his sweater and T-shirt, his upper half bare and muscular and beautiful. His movements were careful, gentle, as if he was trying not to
startle her. She could almost feel his gaze as it slid over her, coming to rest on her face.
“How beautiful you are,” he whispered, letting one hand caress her shoulder. It seemed he took forever to finish undressing her, kissing every new inch of skin that was revealed.
Finally she lay naked on the bed, reaching up for him blindly. He dragged off his jeans and took her against him, his skin fever-hot beneath her exploring hands. He kissed her, his mouth artfully searching, then demanding, and she opened to him, yielding everything.
New sensations unfolded, pleasure surging in response to the clever explorations of his mouth, his gentle hands, the heat nearly overcoming her.
Bracing his weight over her, Mark smoothed her hair back from her perspiring face. “Did you really think it could be less than this?” he asked gently.
Maggie stared up at him, shaken to the depths of her soul. For them there could be nothing less than love, nothing less than forever. The truth was there in the mutual velocity of their pulses, the shocks of desire that resonated between them. She couldn’t deny it any longer.
“Love me,” she whispered, needing him, longing to possess him at last.
“Always. Maggie, love…” He entered her, a hot pressure that filled her in an inexorable slide. He was so strong, inside her, over her. She felt the waves of pleasure rising higher, tipping back slightly, then forward again, higher, until she cried out in wonder. Her hands groped over his back, the sweat-slicked muscles bunching hard beneath her palms. He followed her, finding his own release in the sweet, strong harbor of her embrace.
Afterward they lay together in transcendent silence, their bodies pressed intimately close.
There were more questions that would be asked, answers that would have to be found. But for now all that could wait, while she lay steeped in a sense of newness and possibility. And hope.
Fourteen
Christmas Eve
Some of the wrapped presents had to be moved while Alex and Sam set up the electric train to circle around the Christmas tree. Holly crowed in delight, running around in her red flannel pajamas to follow the train’s progress. Renfield crept forward and watched suspiciously.
It had been agreed that Holly could open one present on Christmas Eve, and the rest would wait until the morning. Naturally she had chosen the largest box, which had turned out to be the train set. Another box, still neatly wrapped, contained a fairy house that Maggie had started for her, along with paint, bags of dried moss and flowers, a jar of glitter glue, and other materials for Holly to decorate it with.
Mark sat on the sofa next to Maggie, who was straightening a pile of Christmas books they had read aloud.
“It’s getting late,” Maggie murmured. “I should be going soon.” Her nerves prickled pleasantly as he leaned over to speak quietly into her ear.
“Spend the night here with me.”
Maggie smiled. “I thought there was a no-sleepover rule,” she whispered.
“Yes, but there’s an exception: A guest can sleep over if you’re going to marry her.”
She gave him an admonishing glance. “You’re being pushy again, Nolan.”
“Do you think so? Then you’re probably not going to like one of the presents I’m giving you tomorrow morning.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Oh, God.” She put her head in her hands. “Don’t let it be what I think it is.” She looked at him through her fingers.
Mark smiled at her. “I have reason to hope. You’ve had a hard time saying no to me lately.”
Which was more or less true. Maggie lowered her hands and stared at him, this handsome, impossibly sexy man who had changed her entire life in such a short time. She felt a rush of happiness, so strong that she could hardly breathe. “That’s only because I love you,” she said.
He reached for her, his head bending over hers, his mouth firm and sweet.
“Euw,” she heard Holly exclaim, giggling. “They’re kissing again!”
“We have only one choice,” Sam told her. “We’ll go upstairs so we don’t have to see them.”
“Is it my bedtime?”
“It’s a half hour past your bedtime.”
Holly’s eyes widened. “Santa’s coming soon. We have to set out the cookies and milk.”
“And don’t forget the carrots for the reindeer,” Maggie said, disentangling herself from Mark and heading into the kitchen with Holly.
“Do you think Renfield might scare Santa?” Holly asked, her voice drifting back to the living room.
“With all the dogs Santa’s seen? No way…”
Standing and stretching, Alex said, “I’m outta here. It’s my bedtime, too.”
“You’re coming back tomorrow morning, right?” Sam asked.
“Is Maggie cooking breakfast?”
“At least in a supervisory capacity.”
“I’ll be here, then.” Alex went to the doorway and paused to look back at them. “I like this,” he surprised them by saying reflectively. “It feels sort of…family-ish.”
He went to say good-bye to Holly and Maggie, and left.
“I think he’ll be okay,” Sam remarked. “Especially when the divorce is final.”
Mark smiled slightly. “I think we’ll all be okay.”
Holly came back into the room and set a plate of cookies and a glass of milk on the coffee table. “Renfield,” she said, “do not eat any of that.”
The bulldog wagged his back end agreeably.
“Come on, gingersnap,” Sam said. “I’ll tuck you in upstairs.”
Holly looked at Mark and Maggie. “Will you come kiss me good night?”
“In just a few minutes,” Maggie promised. “We’re just going to pick up a little and get things ready for tomorrow.” She watched fondly as Holly scampered up the stairs.
As Mark went to turn the train off, Maggie went to the plate of cookies and took out from her pocket a slip of paper.
“What’s that?” he asked, coming back to her.
“A note that Holly wanted to put next to the plate.” She showed it to him. “Do you know what she meant by this?”
Dear Santa
thank you for making my wish come true.
love
Holly
Mark set the note on the coffee table, and put his arms around her. “Yes,” he said, looking into her soft brown eyes. “I know what she meant.”
And as he bent his head and kissed her, Mark Nolan finally believed in magic.
Also by Lisa Kleypas
Smooth Talking Stranger
Seduce Me At Sunrise
Blue-Eyed Devil
Mine Till Midnight
Sugar Daddy
Wallflower Series
A Wallflower Christmas
Scandal in Spring
Devil in Winter
It Happened One Autumn
Secrets of a Summer Night
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
CHRISTMAS WITH HOLLY. Copyright 2010 by Lisa Kleypas. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
ISBN: 978-1-2500-3653-7
Take a Journey to the Most
Magical, Romantic Read of Your Life
Read on for a preview of the first book in an exciting new trilogy from
New York Times bestselling author, Lisa Kleypas
RAINSHADOW ROAD
On Sale March 2012
And Don’t Miss
CRYSTAL COVE (August 2012) and DREAM LAKE (February 2013)
Chapter One
When Lucy Marinn was seven years old, three things happened: her little sister Alice got sick, she was assigned her first science fair project, and she found out that magic existed. More specifically, that she had the power to create magic. And for the rest of her life, Lucy would be aware that the d
istance between ordinary and extraordinary was only a step, a breath, a heartbeat away.
But this was not the kind of knowledge that made one bold and daring. At least not in Lucy’s case. It made her cautious. Secretive. Because the revelation of a magical ability, particularly one that you had no control over, meant that you were different. And even a child of seven understood that you didn’t want to find yourself on the wrong side of the dividing line between different and normal. You wanted to belong. The problem was, no matter how well you kept your secret, the very fact of having one was enough to separate you from everyone else.
She was never certain why the magic came when it did, what succession of events had led to its first appearance, but she thought it had all started on the morning when Alice had woken with a stiff neck, a fever and a bright red rash. As soon as Lucy’s mother saw Alice, she shouted for her father to call the doctor.
Frightened by the turmoil in the house, Lucy sat on a kitchen chair in her nightgown, her heart pounding as she watched her father slam down the telephone receiver with such haste that it bounced off its plastic cradle.
“Find your shoes, Lucy. Hurry.” Her father’s voice, always so calm, had splintered on the last word. His face was skull-white.
“What’s happening?”
“Your mother and I are taking Alice to the hospital.”
“Am I going too?”
“You’re going to spend the day with Mrs. Geiszler.”
At the mention of their neighbor, who always shouted when Lucy rode her bike across her front lawn, she protested, “I don’t want to. She’s scary.”
“Not now, Lucy.” He had given her a look that had caused the words to dry up in Lucy’s throat.