Sweet Christmas Kisses (6 page)

She stood, looked in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. The editors of Bride Magazine would be appalled, but she didn’t think she looked half bad. She’d dressed up the white t-shirt she’d borrowed from Aaron with some gold tinsel. The overhead light softly glinted off the satiny tablecloth secured around her waist with a cord stolen from the living room curtains, the ornate gold tassel positioned in the center.

“Bride of the year,” Christy murmured, then she laughed.

Just then Aaron knocked at her door. “I’ve made you a bouquet.”

She accepted the three poinsettias he’d wrapped together with a leftover piece of ribbon. “Thanks,” she told him.

“Izzie’s waiting for us,” he said. “I have instructions to escort you to the living room when you’re ready.”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

He smiled. “You look beautiful.”

Christy nearly snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“Wait. What is that?”

He leaned close enough that she could smell the fresh scent of his soap, and her heart kicked against her ribs. She imagined burying her nose in the curve of his neck, but immediately blinked away the startling thought. Then he pulled something from her long, blond tresses.

“Is that a piece of onion skin?” he asked.

She nodded. “Probably. Where do you think I found the netting?”

“That’s an onion bag?” He laughed right out loud. His dark eyes glittered with humor. “Well, no woman has ever looked as ravishing in an onion bag, I don’t mind saying.”

Christy flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll bet you say that to all your pretend brides.”

“No,” he assured her, softly. “No, actually, I don’t. You’re the only pretend bride I’ve met who was wearing onion netting on her head.”

“That just makes me unique.”

He nodded, his voice lowering when he said, “That describes you perfectly.”

She reached up and placed her fingers on his chest, and her brows shot up when she heard a crinkling sound.

“Your tie.” Her mouth spread wide. “It’s made of newspaper.”

“I don’t have any suits here at the cottage,” he told her. “I was going to use the comic section, but the black and white newsprint seemed more formal.”

“It’s perfect.” And she honestly thought it was. What could be more fitting for a pretend wedding than an origami tie?

Aaron took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “Shall we go get married?”

Izzie stood by the Christmas tree, and Christy grinned when she saw the child had done a little dressing up of her own. She’d taken the clear beaded garland off the tree and now had it draped around her throat in a multi-layered necklace, and a squat halo of gold tinsel perched on top of her head. Soft music filled the room, the tree sparkled, a fire crackled in the hearth, the scent of pine mingled with the delectable aroma of the turkey roasting in the oven; the setting couldn’t have been more cozy.

“Okay,” Izzie said, “I’m making this stuff up so I don’t know how good it will be.”

Her little hands were trembling with excitement.

“It’ll be just fine,” Aaron assured her.

“We’re all together here to celebrate this wedding.” Izzie gazed up at them, her expression uncertain, but that didn’t stop her. “I’m not official or anything like that, and this isn’t a church. We know this is a make-believe wedding, but that doesn’t make it not real. It’s a real, make-believe wedding.”

She offered them a self-conscious grin. “That was the opening. Now for the vows. I think you’re supposed to face each other when you say them.”

Dutifully, Christy and Aaron turned toward each other.

“Do you, Daddy,” Izzie said, “promise to like Christy?” She looked up at her father. “Don’t answer yet. There’s more questions.” Then she ordered, “Look at her, not me.”

When his gaze connected with Christy’s it was all they could do not to laugh.

“Will you be there for her in good times and in bad times? Will you promise never to get mad and yell at her? Will you be nice and helpful and happy… and be forever kind of friends with her?”

Aaron waited a beat to be sure his daughter was finished. Humor twinkled in his eyes as he said, “I do.”

“Do you, Christy, promise to like my daddy? Will you be with him in good times and in bad times? Will you not…” Izzie frowned. “Will you promise not to…” She signed. “I forgot exactly what I said, but will you promise all the stuff that daddy just promised?”

The urge to laugh almost got the best of Christy, but she kept her voice steady as she said, “I do.”

“Where’s the ring?” Izzi asked.

Aaron and Christy were clearly both caught off-guard. They looked at Izzie, both murmuring apologies.

The child’s shoulders rounded. “We have to have a ring. It was on the list.” Then she lifted her chin in triumph and tugged the ring from her finger. “Here—“ she thrust the ring at her dad “—use this.”

When a quick test fitting on Christy’s ring failed, Aaron slipped it onto her pinky finger. Christy took a moment to look at the gold Claddagh ring. She didn’t have any Irish in her family history, but from what she could recall, the ring was a symbol of friendship and loyalty.

“Now, before I make the big announcement,” Izzie said, “I want you to both stop. Don’t move. Just stand there and look at each other.” Her pause was just long enough for the adults to do as they were bid. “You’re both smiling. You’re both happy. I want you to think about this place, how pretty everything is, how beautiful Christy is, how handsome Daddy looks, and the smell of the turkey, the sound of the Christmas music… and remember this time. Forever.”

The smile on Aaron’s face began to slip, and Christy felt thick emotion well. However, Izzie quickly came to their rescue without even realizing it.

“By the power infested in me,” Izzie called out loud enough for the neighbor to hear, “I pronounce you bride and groom.” Immediately, she nudged them both. “You’re supposed to kiss now.”

“Izzie,” her father said, “You need to work on the romantic bits.”

“Huh?”

Almost by instinct it seemed, Aaron tucked a curled finger beneath Christy chin and tilted her face upward. His kiss was warm but chaste, just as a kiss in front of Izzie should be. But that didn’t keep Christy from reacting to it. Not in the least. Her heart tripped at a crazy beat and she felt a flush of heat roll throughout her body.

Izzie’s applause was infectious, and they both joined in.

“Now there’s a party!” When Izzie gave a little joyful jump, her halo slipped down over her ear.

There was nothing else to do but completely surrender to the festive air that Izzie had conjured. They ate and danced and laughed into the night.

Aaron awoke to what he thought was the sound of soft crying. He pushed himself out of bed and went straight to Izzie’s room. He found her sleeping soundly, Ernie tucked tightly under her arm. His brows drew together as he closed the bedroom door.

Deep gray shadows arrowed down the hallway and he made his way to Christy’s bedroom. He paused only a moment before her ragged breathing urged him to knock.

“Christy?” He opened the door without waiting for her reply. “Are you okay?”

She sat on the edge of the mattress, swiping at her face. Whether it was with a tissue or the backs of her hand, he couldn’t really tell in the gloom. Dim moonlight filtered through the filmy curtains and gave the skin of her shoulder and forearms a pearly glow.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” she said. “I’m okay. It’s nothing.”

He eased the door closed behind him so Izzie wouldn’t be disturbed by their voices, and he walked to the center of the room.

“It’s not nothing,” he whispered. “You’re crying.”

She sighed and sniffed. “I was lying here. I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about how much fun I had today. We laughed so much, me, and you, and Izzie. I haven’t had such a wonderful Christmas in years. I… I’m so glad that you—that we’ve been able to make this a wonderful time for her. Then, out of the blue, I realized that I hadn’t, you know, I hadn’t thought about Danielle much at all today. I wondered if that was because I’m losing her in some way. That… I don’t know. It sounds stupid, I guess. The thought just upset me, is all. I’ll be fine.”

Aaron moved to the bed and sat down beside her, her bare arm brushing against his caused a tickling sensation to skitter across his skin. He took her hands.

“You’re not losing Danielle,” he told her. Her anguish was breaking his heart. “You could never lose her, Christy. Never.”

She nodded, fresh tears spilling from her eyes.

“I mean it.” He gave her fingers a supportive squeeze. “It was my fault you didn’t have a chance to think about Danielle. We kept you busy, that’s all.”

“I know. I know.”

The deep breath she took sounded calming, but the tone of her voice told him she still blamed herself and guilt was weighing heavy.

“Christy, it’s impossible to forget someone who gave you so much to remember.”

Gratitude eased the tension in her beautiful face.

“It’s true,” he softly insisted. “And you wouldn’t need me to remind you of that if you hadn’t spent the whole day helping me with Izzie. Opening gifts, making breakfast, cutting a hole in a perfectly good tablecloth, pinning an onion bag on your head.”

His impulsive attempt at levity was rewarded with her small smile.

“And dinner was delicious.”

“I didn’t do it all myself.”

“Sure, all of us worked together,” he said. “And that was part of the plan. Making this a family holiday for my little girl.” He shook his head. “We should have found a way to include Danielle. I should have asked you to tell me a little something about her. You could have shared some Christmas memories with us around the tree.”

She looked up into his face, and although he wasn’t aware that she’d pulled her hands from his, she was suddenly sliding her fingers along his jaw line until his chin nestled in the palm of her hand.

“You truly are the sweetest man I have ever met.”

He watched her dusky lips form the words, and somehow, before she’d even finished her sentence, the deep compassion he’d felt for her agony transformed to a sudden and insistent need.

Sliding his fingers into her hair, he pulled her to him. His kiss was long and lingering, and when he pulled back from her, fear streaked through him like a quick zap of lightning as he wondered how she would react. Would she be appalled by his forwardness?

His anxiety abated as swiftly as it had come when he saw desire light in her clear blue gaze. She kissed his mouth, and when she bent to trail her lips down his neck, the thin strap of her nightgown slipped over her shoulder. Her creamy skin screamed out for his touch. He smoothed the pads of his fingers up her arm, over the curve of her shoulder. Her golden hair brushed against his nose and he inhaled the scent of wildflowers and citrus deep into his lungs. Her skin was soft as satin, hot as embers.

She kissed his lips again, whispered his name against his mouth, and Aaron knew he’d never heard anything as passionate, as arousing in his life. Then she said, “
Please
.”

The desperate urgency in her appeal was more than he could stand.

And then they were on the bed, kissing, touching, sighing, exploring, and they didn’t stop until both of them were panting and fully satiated.

A shaft of sunlight cut across Christy’s face and she was forced to squint her way out of sleep. She rolled over onto her back and indulged in a delicious, languid stretch.

She was alone in the bed, but she wasn’t surprised. Izzie would have been troubled and confused if she’d come out of her room in the night and discovered her father in Christy’s bed. The honest truth was, Christy herself was a little troubled and confused about how the events of last night would change her relationship with Aaron.

They had gotten caught up in the moment; swept along in some powerful, emotional storm. But she wouldn’t have changed a thing about the hour or so that they’d spent in each other’s arms. Their initial coming together had been quick, almost torrid, but they’d spent long moments afterward, whispering in the dark, stroking and kissing, until their desire had once again reached a fever pitch.

Afterward, she had lain, cradled against his chest, listening to the pounding of his heart, thrilled to know she was the reason for its thunderous beating. She’d fallen asleep with his body pressed tightly against hers. He must have awoken in the wee hours of the morning and slipped out of her bed.

No, she wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Christy had just tossed back the covers and sat up when she heard Aaron call her name. The alarm in his tone sent a jolt of adrenalin shooting through her, and she jumped out of bed and raced toward the door.

He was standing in the hallway, his face drained of color, his dark eyes shadowed by fear.

“Izzie’s bleeding,” he told her.

“Is she conscious?” Christy instantly shifted into nurse-mode, forcing herself into a sense of calm. She followed him into Izzie’s room.

The blood-smeared pillow had been tossed to the floor and Izzie lay, flat on her back, her eyes closed, her cheeks pale as chalk. The blood that crusted her nose was dark which told Christy it wasn’t fresh.

“Yes, but she’s really lethargic.”

“Izzie?” It was just second nature for Christy to lift the child’s wrist and check her pulse. It was weak.

The child opened her eyes. “I’m tired.” Then she grimaced. “I don’t feel so good.” She attempted to sit up and promptly heaved down the front of herself.

Aaron’s hand clamped down on Christy’s shoulder. “Is that blood?” he asked.

Certain that the fear in his voice would frighten Izzie, Christy stood up and faced Aaron.

“I want you to stay calm.” As she talked to him, she guided him toward the bedroom door. “It could be just a nosebleed. It could be she swallowed a little blood in her sleep. I’ll check her out. I want you to go get dressed. We might need to leave.”

“Should I call an ambulance?”

They were in the hallway. “Aaron, go get dressed,” she ordered, this time more firmly. “She had a lot of excitement yesterday. This could have been caused by overexertion. Let’s just stay calm. I’ll know more after I get her cleaned up.”