12 Christmas Romances To Melt Your Heart Read online

  Her breath caught in her chest and her stomach fluttered.

  Why wouldn’t he just let her be? Why did he have to drag her into the spotlight? Carolyn didn’t want to be surround by children. Surrounded by happy families. It reminded her of what she’d given up on.

  She blinked a few times and took a deep breath, willing the tears away with anger. He was a jerk for doing this to her. He knew she didn’t want to participate. Peter Gibson was forcing her to.

  That wasn’t absolutely true. She could ask any one of the adults in the room to help her to the side. She could apologize to the children and explain that it was a mistake. That she really wasn’t Mrs. Claus.

  But she didn’t. She stayed.

  She turned to glance over at Peter. A large man was leaning over his shoulder and Peter was speaking in a low quiet voice. She couldn’t tell what he said, but the other man rushed off in a hurry.

  He turned back to her with his hundred-watt smile and dimples big enough to drown in. Even under the ridiculous curly white beard, he was handsome and… so happy.

  She couldn’t remember that last time she’d been as happy as he looked at this very instant.

  “As soon as Doc Cooper gets here and wraps your ankle, we can start the line.”

  Carolyn shook her head. “You don’t have to wait, on my account.”

  “Yes we do.”

  Chapter 5

  Peter couldn’t stop grinning. The woman was angry and hurt, but she reminded him so much of Diane. When she’d licked her lips right before he’d gotten her down from the wagon, he hadn’t been able to push away the desire to kiss her rosy mouth.

  She was a beautiful woman. Honey blond hair curled around her ears, bouncing on her shoulders with each turn of her head. Her eyes were a mixture of blue and green and a splash of light brown freckles adorned her cheeks. It was cute.

  She was younger than him, but hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken the time to look at any woman unless it’d been at Joe’s bar with the young guys from Anna’s ranch. And those girls certainly hadn’t been interested in an old man like him.

  Carolyn was different. And she wasn’t too young. Hopefully. Plus, he could’ve sworn he’d seen a look of interest. Briefly maybe. But it’d still been there.

  What he really couldn’t believe, was his interest.

  She was sitting there, so annoyed by the whole situation, almost like she hated the sight of Christmas itself. Still wearing his wife’s old costume coat, and doing her darnedest not to cry. A fake smile split her face and she pretended to be interested when a little toddler wandered up and rubbed his little fingers across the red skirt of her long coat.

  “Santa,” the familiar voice of Doc Cooper called, and he came out from the crowd carrying a brown duffle. “What’s this I hear about Mrs. Claus being injured?”

  “Pretty sure it’s just a sprain, doc. But I refused to leave her behind. Wanted you to give it a look and hopefully wrap it for her,” Peter said, catching her gaze again. “He’ll take good care of you,” he said, winking. “The horses at the ranch love him. He always brings them treats.”

  Her eyes widened, and air whooshed from her lungs. She gasped, “You’re a vet!” Her screech of surprise made them both laugh, which only brought another flood of pink to her round cheeks.

  “Yes,” Doc Cooper answered. “I promise I know how to wrap a sprain. Plus, the kids are waiting. And you don’t want to see what happens to this room if they get antsy.”

  He pushed aside Carolyn’s coat and rolled up her jeans pant leg.

  Peter winced. The ankle was more swollen and even more purple than it had been when he’d looked at it.

  “I’ll wrap it for now, Mrs. Claus, but Santa over here will need to help you to the ER after the party. I’m pretty sure it’s broken. I can take you now, if you’d like. I know the kids will be disappointed, but you’ve got to be in a lot of pain.” He kept his voice low and discreet, but Peter heard every word.

  He was an asshole for thinking she could make it through the festivities. She needed painkillers and a bed.

  She shook her head. “Just wrap it. I’ll stay until it’s over.”

  “It’s okay, Carolyn. You can go,” Peter said, wishing he could leave the party right now with her. He could only imagine the pain she was fighting through and she shouldn’t have to wait.

  “I’ll be fine.” She winced as the doctor finished tucking the end of the bandage beneath another strip. A single tear escaped, but she brushed it away and flashed a brave smile.

  “Okay then,” he said, turning back the line of expectant children.

  “Is Mrs. Claus okay?” asked the little girl at the front of the line. She couldn’t have been more than five, but the sympathy in her face was priceless.

  “I am, sweetie. Don’t worry,” Carolyn answered before he could.

  He turned and saw the first genuine smile from her so far. She beamed for that little girl’s benefit and it was damned beautiful. Sexy and sweet all wrapped up together.

  He had it bad.

  Peter shook his head and smiled. Diane was probably laughing her butt off as she watched this unfold. Here he was, trapped in a Santa suit with probably the only woman in the whole state of Texas that hated Christmas. It hadn’t escaped his notice that her home was the only house on the parade route that didn’t look like a gingerbread house from a Christmas painting.

  Not even one lonely strand of lights had adorned her porch. Something had stolen her holiday spirit, and he was suddenly grateful for the runaway sleigh. If that car hadn’t backfired and Lady hadn’t bolted, he wouldn’t be sitting next to this woman who fought so hard to be angry so no one would notice how much she was hurting.

  “Hop up, sweetie,” he said, turning back to the little girl.

  She complied with a gleeful giggle and proceeded to whisper in his ear everything she wanted for Christmas, what her parents wanted, what her grandmother wanted, and even what her pet wanted.

  He gave his best Santa laugh and smiled for the picture. Told her to be a good girl and just maybe what she wanted would be under her tree on Christmas morning.

  Child after child sat on his knee over the course of two hours. Each child had a different wish. Each child got a present from the stack of brightly wrapped boxes next to his chair. Every child, after climbing down from his lap, walked carefully to Carolyn and gave her a gentle hug. All of them were careful of her foot and made sure to approach her from the side, and not the front.

  By the time the line was finished, she was laughing and smiling and returning their hugs, even posing for pictures when they asked.

  There was hope for her yet.

  Chapter 6

  He was carrying her again. The man just couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of her. Although, pressed tightly to his chest, she really couldn’t complain. It’d been so long since she felt protected.

  And he made her feel that way. Small and safe. She could’ve hobbled along next to him, but he wouldn’t put her down.

  Every time she’d protested he told her “No”. No explanation. No reason. Just “No” and kept right on.

  Peter strolled through the ER doors and paused at the large desk where several nurses hustled back and forth. One was on the phone and the other two were talking to other people seeking care.

  The nurse who’d been on the phone hung up and met Carolyn’s gaze.

  “What can we do for you?” she asked, rising from her chair.

  “She’s sprained, or possibly fractured, her ankle,” Peter answered before she could.

  “Please fill out these papers,” the nurse said, passing a clipboard over the counter. “Bring them back when you’re done and we’ll get you in to see the doctor. Probably be about ten minutes.”

  Carolyn took the board and he carried her toward a couple of empty chairs, placing her gently in one and sinking into the other himself. He didn’t groan, but she could tell he wanted to.

  “You need t
o stop carrying me,” she said, scribbling her information on the documents.

  “You need to stop complaining,” he said, another chuckle rumbling from his chest.

  What was it that kept a smile on his face?

  “Why are you so cheerful? We’re in a hospital, for crying out loud.”

  “Who hurt you, Carolyn?” he asked, taking the finished paperwork from her hands. “I’d really like to break his face for you.”

  She smirked as she pictured the mountain of a man in front of her knocking her ex to his ass. Possibly even breaking his nose.

  “I’ll be right back.” He hopped up from the chair and dropped the clipboard at the front desk. Then hurried back to her side, sliding back into the chair and leaning sideways, until his arm and shoulder melded into hers. “Were you going to give me a name? Or should I regard every male in town as a potential target?”

  “You’re just being nice to me because your horses almost killed me.”

  “No, I’m being nice to you because for the first time in fifteen years since my wife passed away, a woman is blushing in my presence and I just can’t seem to get enough.”

  Her chest tightened and she sucked in a quick breath. She hadn’t imagined the flirting or the interest. She wanted it to be real. He made her feel young again. Like anything was possible. Like her life maybe wasn’t over. Like she might not have to be alone forever.

  “I woke up on Christmas eve ten years ago and found a note on my husband’s pillow that said he didn’t love me anymore, he’d found someone else who had more to give him, and he’d send paperwork in the mail for me sign.”

  Peter’s fingers tightened around the chair handle until his knuckles turned white. His mouth pressed into an angry line and his honey-brown eyes darkened.

  She had no doubt in her mind that if her ex showed up at this very moment, that Peter would decimate him. Even though imagining her ex getting the shit beat out of him was a little satisfying, she didn’t really want Peter in trouble for assault.

  “He doesn’t live here anymore.” She put her hand over his and felt the tension in his body melt into the ether.

  He turned his hand and threaded his fingers between hers, squeezing gently. “Any man who ends a marriage that way isn’t worth a second thought. I’m so sorry.”

  She shook her head and stared at the white tiled floor. “He was the love of my life. When he left, I didn’t cope with life very well. I hired a lawyer, kept the house and the car. Then I never left.”

  “Town?”

  “The house.” She turned, looking into his eyes. They’d softened back to a warm honey color again. “I work from home. I shop from home. I order delivery to eat.”

  He squeezed her hand again. “And in I come, ordering you around, taking you to a Christmas party. No wonder you cringe at the sight of holiday decorations. Geez. Could I have been any more bossy?”

  She laughed. “I can’t believe I let him ruin a wonderful holiday for so long. You know, those kids are really what tipped the scale. I’d forgotten the magic in the holiday. Seeing them wishing for gifts and asking you for their heart’s desire…then they wanted to hug me. Just because I was dressed up in big red coat…I—”

  “It’s the best thing on the planet. Seeing the wonder and joy in a child’s face.” He took a deep breath and his gaze flicked away from hers for a moment.

  “You never had kids with your wife?”

  “Carolyn Myers, the doctor will see you now,” a nurse called, approaching them with a wheelchair.

  Peter stood quickly, then lifted her from her seat into the wheelchair.

  “You like doing that don’t you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “What?” he asked, innocence in his voice, but a smile dancing in his eyes.

  “Mmmmhmmm.”

  He grinned. “I’ll wait here for you.”

  “You’re just avoiding my last question.”

  He shrugged. “Probably.”

  Chapter 7

  The last thing he wanted to admit to Carolyn was that being in a hospital again terrified him. The astringent smells, the plain walls, and the sight of medical personnel made him want to retch everything he’d eaten that day.

  Stepping into the ER with her in his arms had been one the hardest things he’d done. Since his wife had passed away, he’d only entered the hospital for one other person in the past fifteen years. Months ago when he’d taken Zoe Morgan to see her Grams. He’d felt the same nausea then as now, but he’d beaten it that day. Peter could conquer it again for Carolyn.

  All those years of chemo and treatments with Diane had instilled an automatic sense of dread. If he could avoid hospitals and doctors’ offices for the rest of his life, it would be fine by him.

  He wasn’t really trying to avoid Carolyn’s question about children. He just hadn’t wanted to go through those doors. There were too many terrible memories behind them.

  They were the last thing he saw the night he lost Diane. He’d run out of the hospital and shouted at the sky. Cursing that she’d been taken from him so quickly. Angry that she’d had to fight so long and so hard only to have the cancer still win. They couldn’t beat it.

  She’d gone into remission five times. Five times it’d come back with a vengeance.

  That fifth time stole her from him in less than a week.

  He pulled out his phone and browsed through messages while he waited. Played a few games of solitaire and texted a couple of the boys from the stable to bring his truck over to the hospital.

  Twenty minutes later, Harvey had popped into the waiting area and handed off the keys. Peter thanked him and apologized for interrupting his day off, but Harvey had just smiled and said he wasn’t doing anything that Peter wouldn’t have done for him in a heartbeat.

  When Carolyn’s voice called out to from across the lobby, his whole body heaved a sigh of relief. The same nurse was wheeling her toward him, but the tightness and obvious discomfort that had been in Carolyn’s face since he’d picked her up off her lawn was gone. Her eyes were slightly dilated and the smile on her face said they’d given her a good-sized dose of pain-killers.

  “You came in with her, right?” the nurse asked.

  “Yes, how is she?”

  “It was a bad break. The doctor was able to set it, so she doesn’t need surgery, but it’s still very swollen and she’s not allowed to put any pressure on it. We will need to see her back in four to five days to put a hard cast on it once the swelling goes down. Will you be taking care of her, sir?”

  “Yes, I’ll make sure she’s safely back home.”

  “She was in a lot of pain.” The nurse handed him a small slip of paper. “We gave her a dose of hydrocodone already, but you will need to stop and get this prescription filled. She can take as needed, but no more than one pill every four to six hours.”

  Peter took a deep breath and nodded.

  “Did you know you are really cute in that Santa outfit?” Carolyn blurted, and started giggling.

  He smiled down at her. “You are definitely feeling more relaxed.” Looking back at the nurse, he shoved the prescription slip into his back pocket. “Thank you. Can you wheel her to the door? I’ll just go get my truck.”

  The nurse nodded and he hurried out into the dark. A chill still hung in the Texas air, but he liked the crispness. It wasn’t really winter yet, that wouldn’t hit until mid-January and February. December was generally pretty mild. The Santa outfit was almost too heavy.

  He located the truck by clicking his fob a couple of times and listening for the beep. By the time he pulled up the drive in front of the ER doors, Carolyn appeared to be entertaining the nurse, because the poor woman doubled over and laughing hard.

  “What?” he asked, strolling around the front of his truck toward them.

  “She was just telling me how Santa ran her over and then saved her from a couple of wolves only to drag her to a party where a vet wrapped her leg until you could bring her here. It’s quite the t
ale.” The nurse smirked.

  “It was an eventful day so far, I’ll have to admit,” he said, allowing the corners of his mouth to curve into a smile. “One of the horses in the Christmas Stroll got spooked by a car backfiring.”

  “Yikes. Sound like you were lucky there weren’t more injuries.”

  “Very.” He opened the passenger door and helped Carolyn into the seat. “Night.”

  “Night,” the nurse called, turning and wheeling the chair back through the sliding glass doors.

  He rounded the truck and climbed back into the drivers’ seat. Pulling out of the parking lot, Peter slowly made his way through town and the thickening dinner-time traffic. He stopped at the first corner store he came across went around to the pharmacy drive-thru. He’d have to get back out later and pick up her prescription.

  A few minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of the only house on Third Street with no Christmas decorations.

  “It’s depressing isn’t it?” Her voice was small, but the finality was what worried him.

  “It’s never too late to change your mind. I have some extra decorations at my house I could bring over.”

  After carrying her into the house and depositing her on the large brown couch in the center of the living room, she finally spoke again.

  “I have all the stuff. It’s still in the attic.”

  “Oh,” he said, digging around her kitchen cabinets and fridge for something he could cook up for her for dinner. The woman didn’t even have a loaf of bread. The fridge sported several takeout containers, a half empty carton of eggs, and a bottle of ketchup, mustard, mayo, some orange juice and several bottles of wine. “Carolyn, what do you usually eat for dinner?”

  “The takeout menus are in the drawer,” she hollered from the living room.

  Takeout…every night? “Now that is depressing.”