Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses: A feel good Christmas romance novel (24 page)

“
W
hat do
you think this big news is?” Abbey asked as Nick stood by her side of the car, holding the door open for her. He reached out and offered his hand to help her step over a small pile of snow in her heels.

“There’s no telling with her,” he said. “She has a very unique personality. She’s extremely outspoken, which is funny, because my dad was always more reserved… You know, she really likes you. She told me about a hundred times.”

“Why would she?” She didn’t mean the question to come out like that. “What I meant was, what in particular does she like so much about me? She and I are so different.”

They walked together between a pair of giant evergreen shrubs in pots, their limbs cut in a spiral shape and covered in white lights. They stepped under the long awning that had “The Jefferson” in curly gold writing on the front, each side of their path lined with red poinsettias. The doorman opened the door for them.

Nick nodded his thanks to the doorman and then answered, “I think it’s because you both are sort of no-nonsense in your own ways. She liked your honesty and transparency. You are always yourself no matter what is put in front of you. I like that about you too.”

They entered the lobby of the hotel, and Abbey stopped walking. Nick looked over to her to see what was wrong and then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him smile and wait for her to take in the amazing view surrounding her.

The entire room, as big as a sports field, was surrounded by balconies, their edges draped in fresh greenery, their railings anchored by large, marble columns. There were so many poinsettias that it would take all night to count them. The marble floors were covered in an enormous rug, small seating areas arranged along the edges. And in the center a twenty-eight-foot Christmas tree that stretched all the way up to the stained-glass dome above it. Every inch of the tree was covered in traditional ornaments and white lights.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said, having difficulty keeping her emotions in check. They moved from the red carpet runner leading up the stairs to the piles of Christmas greenery on the railings going up. She let her gaze wander the two floors and marble columns, the detail and ornamentation on every surface.

“Yes. Very beautiful,” he said, but he was looking down at her.

He ushered her forward and they walked toward the restaurant. The marble floors gave way to hardwoods, the round columns turning square and in front of her, in the ornate style of a cathedral, was a bar, the lighting illuminating the edges in a gold glow. The stools with burgundy padded seats were perfectly lined along the front of it, and it almost looked like a piece of art. They walked past it into the dining room where Susan was standing and waving ceaselessly.

Every table was covered in white linens, the chairs a burnt orange to match the drapes and rug covering the hardwoods. Chandeliers dripped down from the ceiling in various places. Abbey’s eyes followed the ornate moldings around the windows and the ceiling. A huge fireplace sat at one end of the room, the mantle covered in candles and more greenery, the wall-sized mirror above it reflecting its light.

Nick guided Abbey to the table where she met Robin, James, Thomas, Caroline, and a man she’d never met before. Thomas was sitting quietly, his hands in his lap, his hair perfectly combed to the side while James was playing “I Spy” with him. Susan walked around the table to greet them, kissing them both on each cheek. She held Abbey’s hands and pulled her arms out by her sides.

“You look fantastic!” she said to Abbey.

“Thank you.” Abbey smiled, feeling a little like an imposter in those clothes. She was glad they’d already met the real her because she surely didn’t feel herself dressed like this.

“She looks like a runway model, Nick,” Susan said, her eyebrows jumping up and down in excitement. “Come! Sit! I am bursting at the seams!”

They sat down and Nick eyed the man across from him, a slight crease forming between his eyes. He smiled politely at him and held out his hand across the table. “I’m Nick Sinclair, Susan’s son.”

“Hello,” he nodded, shaking Nick’s hand. “I’m Carl Simmons.”

“And you know… my mother?”

“Yes!” Susan butted in. “Everyone, I have an announcement to make.” She held up a finger to one of the wait staff and he brought over a bottle of champagne, uncorked it with an echoing pop, filled champagne glasses, and then set the bottle inside a silver bucket at the end of the table.

Abbey politely took the glass she was offered.

When the waiter had disappeared, Susan continued. “Carl and I have known each other for quite some time. Last month, he proposed.” She held up her hand and turned it around so everyone could view the boulder of a diamond she had hanging off her ring finger. “So, I wanted you all to meet him.”

Everyone burst into an excited chatter at once, congratulating them and smiling, toasting, and drinking champagne. Nick followed along with everyone, but Abbey could tell there were thoughts in his eyes. He seemed genuinely happy for her, but he was thinking about something else too.

When the food was served and they’d broken into smaller conversations, Abbey whispered to Nick, “What are you thinking about?” He’d been quietly listening, nodding at the right moments, and smiling, but there was something on his mind.

“It’s nothing.” He pushed around his grilled chicken gouda cavatappi—she’d heard him say it and she’d asked for the same since she’d had no idea what to order.

“It’s something, I can tell.”

“I miss my father,” he said in her ear.

It was a very honest piece of information, and it made her feel closer to him. She reached under the table and put her hand on his.

“Things keep moving farther away from him. I feel like I’m the last person to keep his memory alive. Everyone else seems to be going along just fine without him.”

Caroline seemed to notice their conversation, and Abbey wondered by the look on her face if she’d heard it. She, too, looked like she was contemplating something, but she only smiled when their eyes met.

After dinner, they had drinks at the bar in the hotel, so they moved to a more casual location, allowing Susan to float around the bar and chat with everyone. She came up behind Nick and put her arm around his waist, her cheeks rosy from the champagne at dinner.

“Are you okay with this?” Susan asked. She sipped the red wine that she’d gotten at the bar. “I know how you feel about your father.”

“I just miss him.”

“Well, you know you’re a grown man. Carl wouldn’t dare try to take the place of your father. He’s simply a friend to you. And he’d do anything for you.”

“He seems very kind,” he said. “I’m happy to see you get so much attention. You deserve it. I know my father wasn’t always the most attentive husband.”

“No,” she agreed. “But he loved his children.” She smiled and took a large drink of her wine.

Robin poked her head into the conversation. “Pardon,” she said with an unknowing smile, cutting through the seriousness of the last minute. “I wanted to catch Abbey. Can we finalize the party details on Monday? The chef is going to have us all taste-test his dishes.”

“Yes,” Abbey said with a smile. “And we also still need to finalize the favors and music. I know we were down to only a few choices.”

“Abbey
is
coming to the party, right?” Nick’s mother asked. “She’d better. Nick, have you asked her? If not, get with it, son!” she teased.

Nick looked down at Abbey, rearranging his lips to keep his smile from emerging. “Would you like to come to the party rather than sitting upstairs in your room?”

“Okay,” she said with an unsure smile. She wasn’t sure if he’d only asked her because he was prompted, or if he’d already planned to ask her. But she knew that she wanted to be with Nick despite their obstacles, and this would give her yet another chance to spend time with him before he left for New York.

“Max can come down too. I’m letting Thomas stay up for it. You won’t have to arrange childcare or anything.”

“Thank you. That’s very thoughtful.”

“Speaking of Max,” Nick looked at his watch. “We should probably get you back to your car.” He walked over and shook hands with Carl and James, then he kissed each of the ladies on the cheek. “We must be going, but we’ll see you back at home shortly.”

They said their goodbyes and walked out into the bright sunlight, the sky an electric blue against the snow on the ground. It looked like the storms were finally departing. Then they got in and Nick started the car, the seat warmers giving Abbey shivers with their heat as they pushed the chill out of her.

“Thank you for taking me today,” Abbey said. “It was very nice, although I don’t think you needed me.” She grinned playfully at him.

“Actually, I did. It made me feel more comfortable hearing the news that my mother was moving on with her life. I handled it better knowing you were beside me.” He looked over at her and then back at the road.

Abbey felt her heart lurch.

“I enjoyed it,” she said.

“I’m glad.”

They drove quietly until they pulled in to Max’s school. She thanked Nick for the wonderful lunch and told him she’d see him back at the house. He got out and opened her door. As she exited the car and stood beside the open door, he grabbed her hands and looked down at her.

“I was thinking about New York while we were driving,” he admitted.

She waited for what he had to say.

“You can stay with me if you decide to decorate Robin’s home. Are you considering it?”

She nodded, her mind going back to the feeling of waking up beside him.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said with a smile. “I’ll see you back at the house.” Without warning, he leaned down and kissed her lips. “Bye, Abbey.” He jogged around to his side of the car and got in.

With a ridiculous grin, she went in to get Max in her five-thousand-dollar outfit.

Max was holding his craft stick birdhouse and an envelope with holly he’d colored all over the outside. “What’s that?” Abbey pointed to the sealed envelope. She loved hearing about the things he’d made at school.

“It’s a secret,” he said, his face animated.

“So you can’t tell me?”

He shook his head. “It has my secret Christmas wish in it.”

“Oh!” Abbey was itching to know what Max’s secret Christmas wish was. This was supposed to be his big Christmas, the one to top all others. It would be wonderful if she could make that secret wish come true. What else did Max want? “Will you ever tell it to me?” she asked.

“I have to wait and see if I get it for Christmas first. Then, after Christmas, I’ll tell it to you.”

“Deal,” she said, thinking of ways to steam open the envelope.

Max hugged it to his chest as he walked to the car. The snow was starting to melt, making the curbside drain sound like a waterfall from all the melting ice. Max climbed into his booster seat and fastened his seatbelt.

“I’m so glad Nick came to my school today,” he said as they drove home.

“I’m glad too. You know he flew back from Chicago just for you! He took a very late flight so he could get to school like he’d said he would.”

“I like him so much.”

She smiled. “Me too.” She looked at Max in her rearview mirror and she thought how lucky she was to have had Nick there today. He’d made Max a happy boy.

I
t was early
. Max was still sound asleep in the bed and Abbey’s stomach was growling. Slowly, she climbed out from under the covers and padded over to get her robe and slippers, then left the room to get something to eat. The house was eerily quiet as she made her way down the stairs. They were solid, not a creak at all.

The sun wasn’t even up yet, the stars shining through the great ballroom windows as she passed by them. The sconces on the wall were lit like nightlights. They led the way down the enormous hallway to the kitchen.

She entered the room and nearly jumped with fright. Nick was sitting on one of the barstools, the morning paper in his hands. He set it down and looked over at her. His eyes went from her hair down to her slippered feet, interest showing on his face.

“Good morning,” he said, a small smile playing at his lips. His eyes were unstill, and she wondered what he must think of her. Had she known anyone would be up, she’d have at least dragged a comb through her hair.

“Good morning,” she returned. Nick was already dressed, shaved, and perfectly handsome as always. “Do you just wake up like that?” she teased, trying to make light of her own appearance.

Nick looked down at his clothes. He allowed a smile. “Do you just wake up like
that
?” he teased back.

She laughed quietly so as not to wake anyone else. “I was just coming down to find something to eat. I’m starving.”

“The chef won’t be here until seven. Let me cook you something.”

“No. You don’t have to do that. I’ll find something. Have you eaten? Let me cook for you! I make a mean omelet.”

He smiled again, his eyes shifting down to his newspaper, affection oozing from his face.

“You’re in a good mood today,” Abbey noted, rooting through the cabinets for a frying pan. She retrieved the eggs and cracked some into a bowl she’d found. “Whisk?” she asked.

“Top drawer to your left.”

“Thank you. So, what are your plans today?”

“I’m putting a bid on a paper corporation. You?”

“Making handprint ornaments for the living room Christmas tree.”

He laughed. “Busy day for both of us, then.”

“Yes,” she grinned, pulling a green pepper and an onion from the fridge and dicing it. “Good thing I’m cooking. We’ll need a good breakfast. I thought you were taking time off for Christmas.”

“I am. It’s only one bid.”

Abbey pursed her lips in playful disapproval, although she was half serious.

She slid the egg mixture into the pan she’d heated up and began dropping the diced peppers and onions in. The eggs sizzled as she turned down the heat on the stove and then walked over to Nick.

He’d picked his paper back up, and she leaned over his shoulder. “What are you reading?” she asked, their cheeks nearly touching.

He turned to look at her. “The business section.”

She reached over and took the paper out of his hands. He watched her, his forehead creasing in interest. She turned one page after another and then stopped. “Here,” she said, sliding the paper back over to him. “This is the only part I read.”

He looked down at it. “The comics.”

“Yep.”

“I’ve never read this section.”

“What?” She pushed the paper a little further down so it lined up with his line of vision. “Look at this one,” she said, pointing to one of the comic strips. “Read that.” While he was reading, she walked over to serve up the omelets. Her back was to him when she heard a laugh escape his lips and she turned around.

“That’s funny,” he said, scanning down the rest of the page. He stopped on another one on the opposite side and chuckled again.

“See? You don’t have to always be all business.” She winked at him as she slid his plate toward him. When she’d prepared her own plate, he folded his newspaper and set it aside, allowing her to sit on the barstool next to him.

He took a bite and swallowed. “This is delicious,” he said.

“I’m glad you like it.” After a moment’s silence, she asked, “Will you have time today to make ornaments with us?”

“What time?” he asked.

“I can work around you,” she said, trying not to let her excitement get the better of her. “What time would you be free?”

“How about around noon?”

“Done.”

A
bbey had spent
the day finalizing the music and favors for the party. The house looked amazing, and Robin had already sent photos to two of her friends who were going to call Abbey for price quotes on her decorating services. She’d had a busy day, and she hadn’t seen Nick, but she’d promised to make ornaments at noon, and she was there and ready. She looked at her watch. He had one minute. Thomas and Max were sitting at the bar in the kitchen, the bowl of ornament dough waiting to be rolled out.

“He’ll be here,” Abbey said despite her reservations as Robin stood up to go get him. “Let’s give him a chance.” He’d proven himself at Max’s Daddy Day at school, and she wanted to believe that he would be there today.

“Hello, everyone,” Nick said, coming into the kitchen and Abbey let out a breath of relief.

“I thought you were going to be late,” Robin said to him.

“Nope. Not for this. I am intrigued with how to make a hand-ornament.” He walked over to the boys. “Thomas, have you done this before?”

Thomas shook his head.

“Max? Have you?”

“Yes. Mama and I do it every year. She has one for every age I’ve been.”

“Then you’re the pro at this. Will you show us how it’s done?”

“Yes,” Max said with authority. “You have to roll up your sleeves.”

Nick complied, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirtsleeves and folding them up to his elbows. “Now what?” he asked, reaching over to help Thomas roll his sleeve up. Robin was on the opposite side helping with the other sleeve.

“Mama, would you put the flour down, please?” Max said.

Abbey dusted the surfaces with flour.

“Now, grab a big glop of dough.” Max reached in and grabbed a fistful of the white mixture. He dropped it onto the floured surface.

Nick followed his lead and put a wad of it in front of himself.

Abbey handed each of them a cup. “For rolling the dough,” she said.

“Would you like a rolling pin?” Robin suggested. “Nick, you have one, right?”

“That’s okay,” Abbey said. “We always use a cup and it works just fine.”

Nick rolled his cup, his ball becoming flat but lopsided due to the shape of the cup. He rolled again, looking over at Max. Max had done it so many times that he had a perfectly round, flat shape, ready for his handprint.

Abbey reached her arms into Nick’s space to help him smooth his out. As she did, he whispered, “Thank you,” in her ear, and a prickle of excitement slid down her spine.

“Well, you looked like you needed help,” she said with a grin, their faces dangerously close.

After Robin had helped Thomas with his, the boys and Nick each sat in front of a round piece of dough. “Use the end of the cup to cut the dough into a circle. Then press your hand in. I like to do my right hand,” Max said. “You press it like this.” He placed his hand in the center of the dough and pushed down. When he withdrew his hand, there was a perfect print in the center. Abbey scooped it up with a spatula and set it on a cookie sheet. Nick and Thomas followed.

“I’ll bake them,” Abbey explained, “And then we can paint them for the tree.” She turned on the water at the sink. “You two can wash your hands and I’ll let you know when they’re ready to paint.”

The boys washed and dried their hands and Robin went with them into the living room. Nick walked over with dough still in his fingers. “Thank you for including me in this,” he said. “I’ve never done anything like it before.” He tried to brush his hands off by clapping them together but only succeeded in getting gooey dough on both hands.

“You’re welcome,” she said, and she meant it, unable to hide her amusement.

“I like doing things like this with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It…” he searched her face as if she had the rest of his sentence, but she stayed quiet. “It makes me wonder about things.”

“What things?”

“How different things with you are.”

“Good different or bad different?”

He smiled and it went all the way up to his eyes. “Good different. I want to kiss you right now.”

“But that wouldn’t be a good idea,” she said.

His face became somber. “Why is that?”

“Well, your hands are full of dough.”

He grinned a crooked grin. “So, you wouldn’t want these on your face,” he said, holding up his hands. The dough was sticky and crumbly at the same time, a small piece falling to the floor.

“No,” she said, shaking her head.

He took a step toward her. “You wouldn’t want me to run them through your hair.”

She watched him, not believing for a second that he would actually touch her with those fingers. “No,” she said, but honestly, she couldn’t care less what was on his hands if he were kissing her. She got closer until she was looking up at him, telling him with her eyes that she wanted him to kiss her. He’d shown up today, he’d been involved, he’d talked to the kids. There was something so attractive about that, that she couldn’t deny what she was feeling.

He put his hands on her cheeks, the wetness of the dough cold against her face. She didn’t notice it for long because, in less than a second, his lips were on hers. The soft warmth of them was making her lightheaded. She put her arms around his neck, kissing him back. Playfully, she bit his lip, and his eyes flew open for just a moment before he resumed kissing her. He pushed his hands up the back of her neck and into her hair, the dough trailing behind, his mouth moving on hers urgently.

“I should make ornaments more often,” she said.

“Yes,” he said, leaning down for one more kiss.

“
T
he chef is here
. He’s got a lot of food already,” Robin said.

“Robin has asked him to make literally everything she’s ever had at a party before,” James said. “We have to narrow it to six hors d’oeuvres, two main dishes, and five desserts.” James and Robin were seated at the bar area with a line of white plates in front of them. Susan was standing at one end, a white cloth napkin dangling from her fingers.

Nick walked in the room and stood next to Abbey. “Looks good,” he said.

Susan clicked over to them on her high heels and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Hello, darling,” she said and then she looked at Abbey. “I’m so glad you two are both here! I’m trying to keep busy while Carl is out golfing. He doesn’t know a soul, yet he’ll be the first to chat with strangers if there’s a tee in the vicinity.”

“Want to help us decide between the garlic-roasted shrimp cocktail and the ham, Gruyère, and honey-mustard palmiers?” James said to Nick.

“Absolutely.” Nick went over to the sink to wash his hands and Abbey followed suit. Then, he walked around to the bar and picked up a little croissant-looking pastry.

It must be the ham-whatsits James had mentioned
, Abbey thought. To her surprise he’d come back to her and was offering her a bite as she finished drying her hands. She leaned forward and he popped it into her mouth. It was the most savory, delicious thing she’d ever tasted.

“Those are my favorites,” he said with a little grin. “I used to ask for them whenever my parents had a party.”

“Mmm hmm,” she said, nodding, still chewing. She swallowed and set the towel down just as he handed her a stemmed glass with sparkling wine—another item set out for them to try. “It is very good.”

“The wine goes well with it,” he said.

She took a sip, and he was right. “If you already know what’s good and what you like, then why are you tasting things? You could’ve just told me what to order.”

“We have to have a consensus,” Robin said, her gaze darting back and forth between Nick and Abbey. “I can’t help it if you two have the same taste.” She winked in their direction. “I’d like to try them all.”

“Well, why don’t you call us when you’re ready to do the deserts?” Nick said. “Since Abbey seems to be on the same page as I am, I’d like to take a few minutes to talk with her, if that’s all right.”

They all agreed a little too energetically.

“Shall we go to the ballroom?” he asked. “I’ve had Richard start a fire in there.”

“Sure,” she said.

“We’ll be back,” he told them as the chef set another plate in front of the others. They smiled and waved them off down the hallway.

“I was hoping to discuss your plans for Christmas Eve,” he said gently as they walked. “You’re staying to take care of Caroline. No staff works on Christmas, but I’d like you to stay.”

She hadn’t really thought it through yet. The party was on Christmas Eve. She could attend that with him, but Max would certainly be too tired to drive all the way home with her. It would be very easy to put him to bed upstairs. The only problem was that this was supposed to be the perfect Christmas for Max, and Santa would have to arrive at an empty apartment. He wouldn’t get his gifts until they’d gotten back home. She considered this as they entered the ballroom.

Nick offered her a seat on the sofa.

“I’m just thinking about Santa Claus,” she said.

Nick nodded, looking thoughtful. “Well, he can either leave the gifts at your house and you can get them the next day, or he can leave them at mine. You could set out a note with his cookies and milk,” he said.

She didn’t want to have Santa leave the gifts in an empty house, but she also didn’t want Max to compare his gifts from Santa with whatever in the world Thomas was going to receive. She wouldn’t be able to compete.

“Something’s bothering you,” he noticed.

She chewed on her lip, trying to figure out what to say, and stood up. He followed suit.

“What is it?” he said.

“I want Max to have the perfect Christmas,” she said. “So I don’t want his Santa loot to be left at an empty apartment.”

“Fine. He can leave it here.”

“But…” It was so touchy. How would she explain it without making him feel guilty or, worse yet, make him want to buy more things for Max?