Holly Lane (Destiny, Ohio) Read online

  When the heavy front door burst open, she looked up to see her daughter, as red-nosed as Rudolph himself, peeking inside. “Mom! Mom! Come look!” Sophie appeared so excited that it was infectious—and God, it was good to see her acting so bubbly.

  “All right, I’m coming,” Sue Ann said as Sophie waved one mitten-covered hand, hurrying her along. Instead of the shawl this time, she grabbed the old parka she’d worn earlier, completely forgetting she’d thought it seemed too ragged for Adam to see her in.

  “Put on your scarf,” Sophie scolded her despite the rush. “You never let me go out without a scarf when it’s cold.”

  “Okay, Mom,” she teased her daughter with a laugh, snatching her brightly striped one from the peg board and tossing it around her neck.

  When they stepped outside, it was almost dark—the days were short this time of year—but snow still fell in large, lacy flakes that glittered in the rays from the porch light Sue Ann had just flicked on. Sophie grabbed her wrist and dragged her down the front steps into the snow that now lay a few inches deep, covering the front yard and the quiet street beyond, which harbored the tracks of only a few vehicles.

  Adam stood behind the fat mound of snow she was being pulled toward, gloved hands in his front jeans pockets, looking chilled but cheerful and oh-so-handsome. Their eyes met briefly, and Sue Ann cast a smile in his direction without quite planning it—until Sophie finally had her where she wanted her, halting her in place, then turning her around to look. “See?” Sophie said.

  And—oh! Only now could she see what a great job Adam had done with the lights—they framed the whole house in colors that glowed through the falling snow. But what Sophie was really showing her was the rather magnificent snow cat she and Adam had created. It sat proudly in the yard, back curving, front legs straight and paws neatly carved, with claws made from chips of tree bark, probably from the woodpile in the backyard. A long, curving tail stretched beside it on the ground, but what made it most distinguishable as a cat were the pointing ears and the face: A triangular piece of bark served as the nose, with wood bits for eyes, and twigs forming a mouth and whiskers. “It’s . . . almost perfect,” Sue Ann said, complimenting and teasing them at the same time.

  “Almost?” Adam argued. “Look, we tried to make the tail stand up, but it just wasn’t happening.”

  “No, that’s not it,” Sue Ann said, still studying the snow cat. “It just needs . . . a bit of flair.” And with that, she broke her own scarf-wearing rule by whipping the striped one from around her neck and carefully tying it around the snow cat’s, leaving the long ends to cascade down in front. “There,” she added. “Now it’s perfect.”

  Sophie clapped her hands and jumped up and down in response, then sang out, “Can we take a picture of it?”

  Adam immediately whipped out his cell phone. “I got it,” he said, pointing it toward the snow cat. “Hop in there with him, Sophie.”

  A few minutes later, everyone had taken turns having pictures made with the cat—who Sophie by then had dubbed Snowy—and Sue Ann said, “I’ve got stuff ready to make hot chocolate inside. You guys must be freezing after being out here so long.”

  “Some hot chocolate sounds good,” Adam said, and the three left the snow cat behind and made a trail back through the fresh snowfall to the front door.

  Once inside, everyone shed their winter gear and Sue Ann led the way to the kitchen, where she mixed up three mugs of cocoa and milk to heat in the microwave. When it was hot, Sophie did the honors with the whipped cream and they all carried their cups back to the living room, where the bare Christmas tree now stood.

  “So are you staying to help trim the tree?” Sophie asked, clearly still just as excited about this as she’d been about everything, it seemed, since Adam’s arrival.

  Maybe she just likes having a familiar man around the house again. Or . . . maybe she just likes having company, period. The big house had felt hollow and quiet these past months. But whatever the case, Sophie’s smile continued to warm Sue Ann’s soul.

  That’s when she heard Adam waffling, though, saying, “Well, I don’t know—it’s getting late and the snow’s really piling up out there,” even as he politely looked to Sue Ann for guidance.

  He was right about it getting late; it was time for dinner, in fact. And she had envisioned the tree-trimming as something she and Sophie would do alone, because Sophie needed to adjust to it being just the two of them at home now for such activities.

  Yet . . . Adam had always been a part of Sophie’s life.

  And Sue Ann couldn’t help remembering that his house was lonely and quiet right now, too.

  So she smiled into his sexy blue eyes and said, “Why don’t you stay?”

  “I think this might just be our best tree ever, Soph, don’t you?” Sue Ann said as she stood back to admire the finished product. Silver snowflake garland stretched from one branch to the next in fancy scallops, and homemade ornaments blended in with the old-fashioned antique ones passed down from Sue Ann’s grandma. Twinkling lights of every color glowed from top to bottom, and crowning the tree was a glittery silver star Sophie had picked out herself as a gift for Sue Ann just last year.

  Sophie’s beaming smile said she agreed. But the evening had gotten away from Sue Ann. After hot chocolate, she’d whipped up an easy winter meal of soup and grilled cheese for them all, and a glance at the mantel clock now told her that decorating the tree had taken longer than she’d planned. “Sophie, why don’t you go call your dad and tell him we’ll be on our way soon.” She was late dropping Sophie at Jeff and Ronni’s.

  “Okay,” her daughter said, scurrying up the steps just off the living room, heading for the upstairs phone.

  It was the first time Sue Ann had been alone with Adam all day, the first chance she’d gotten to say, “Thank you. For all your help today. Sophie had a ball, and that doesn’t happen much lately.” And wow—just looking at him now . . . she couldn’t deny that it brought back familiar feelings. Because the last time she’d been alone with him . . . well, they’d been having good, hot, slow-burning sex.

  But Adam just gave his head a short shake, shrugging off her words. “I haven’t had this much fun lately, either, so trust me, it was no sacrifice.” Then he lowered his chin skeptically. “Only . . . are you planning to drive to Jeff’s now?”

  She nodded easily—but then they both glanced past the lit tree to the wintry white night outside the window. The snow had finally stopped after the completion of the snow cat, but at least three or four fresh inches had accumulated. “Don’t worry,” Sue Ann said, reading his thoughts. “The Corolla is pretty tough in snow. Maybe not Snow Valley snow, but luckily, Destiny roads aren’t quite so steep.”

  The warm grin he cast in reply nearly turned her heart upside down. She’d had to mention Snow Valley, hadn’t she? And now she was pretty sure he was remembering the same thing she was. “Tough or not,” he finally said, “why don’t you let me drop her at Jeff’s? No need to take any chances when I’ve got four-wheel-drive.”

  Hmm. Adam made a considerate offer, and the truth was, she didn’t look forward to the trip to Crestview. Still . . . “This will sound dumb, but I’d feel weird not to take her myself. I just feel . . . like I should spend every second with her I can. I would never want her to think it was too much trouble for me, you know?”

  He shrugged. “So ride along with us.”

  “But then you’d have to bring me back home.”

  “Yeah, it’ll be a whole three blocks out of my way when I pass back by.” Adam lived outside of town on a pretty tract of five acres where, with his father’s help, he’d built a sizable wood ranch house with stone accents and a large stone chimney. “I think I can handle it, Sue Ann.”

  And it was true—bringing her home afterward really wouldn’t put him out. Taking Sophie to Crestview in the first place would actually be way more inconvenient. So finally, Sue Ann gave a conceding sigh and said with a cautious smile, “Okay. You talke
d me into it.” After all, declining his offer would have been silly. She yelled up the stairs, “Soph, when you’re off the phone, go get your backpack. Adam’s gonna drive us over since it’s snowy out.”

  When she turned back to Adam, she found him peering critically at the tree. “Where’s that one ornament?”

  “That one ornament?” she asked teasingly. “I’m gonna need a little more to go on, Mr. Becker.”

  “That old-fashioned glass Santa,” he clarified. “It always used to be on the front of your tree, and I think once you told me it had been passed down through the family. I got the idea it was special to you.”

  Ah, one more reminder that Adam had known her for a long time and that his presence in her home wasn’t unusual—it just felt different now; new in a way, but also familiar. Yet the mention of that particular ornament was a little depressing. “Actually, all the old ones are from my grandmother, but that one was my favorite. It got broken last year.” Jeff had dropped it; it had been an honest accident and she’d been sad but not mad. “It always reminded me of Christmases at her house when I was little. She knew I liked it, so she always put it down low, on the front, so I could see it. That’s why I always put it there, too. I’d hoped to give it to Sophie one day.”

  “Bummer,” he said, and she nodded. And their eyes met—for maybe a little too long, so she looked away, out the window into the snowy night.

  When she finally glanced back at him, this time she found him adjusting one of the tree’s homemade pieces—a reindeer constructed of old-fashioned wooden clothespins. Sophie had made it in kindergarten. And sheesh, again it seemed this was the “year of the reindeer.” Of course, reindeer were pretty common at Christmastime, but lately it almost seemed like they were . . . ganging up on her or something.

  And she probably shouldn’t dare bring this up, but before she could stop herself, she heard herself say, “That reminds me . . . ”

  He turned to face her, letting go of the ornament, his gorgeous blue eyes seeming to paralyze her a little.

  Which was when she realized she definitely shouldn’t bring this up—because it would surely lead their thoughts back to that snowbound cabin, as if they weren’t both already remembering it anyway. But it was too late to stop the question, and she really was curious, so she barreled ahead. “I never got to ask you—what on earth were you doing in that reindeer head in Crestview last week?”

  The question made him let out a hardy laugh. “Price you pay for being Cub Scout den leader.”

  “Ah,” she said, tipping her head back.

  “Sorry, though,” he said, his smile fading into a hint of sheepishness.

  She leaned forward slightly. “For?”

  “Flirting with you that way. That was . . . probably weird of me.” And wow, he was even sexy when he was sheepish. And though he’d just turned the conversation in the exact direction she’d not wanted it to go, something in her stomach tingled.

  Just act mature about it. Acknowledge the truth of the matter, then move on. “Well, it caught me off guard since I couldn’t see who it was. But . . . ” Okay, she was being mature, but she still couldn’t help lowering her eyes for this part. “Given how things turned out later, a little flirting doesn’t seem all that weird.”

  Only then she lifted her gaze back to his just as fast, because the need to see his response overrode her discomfort. And she promptly discovered—oh dear—his gaze locking her all the more warmly in place. Paralysis complete. “Guess that’s true,” he said, his voice going a bit deeper than before.

  Oh boy. The spot between her legs spasmed lightly. And her next words came out rushed. “But we probably shouldn’t talk about that, since—you know—we agreed it would be best.”

  “Right,” he said then, but his voice remained just as deep and sexy anyway, causing Sue Ann to start sweating a little.

  And it was at that precise moment that Sophie came bounding down the steps with her backpack in tow. “Told Daddy we’d be there soon!”

  Good timing, kid. Sue Ann thanked her daughter silently, then said, “All set and ready to go?”

  Sophie nodded.

  And Sue Ann broke free of her temporary paralysis.

  And once again they got bundled back up for another excursion out into the wintry Destiny night.

  Usually when Sue Ann sat in the driveway of Veronica’s small Cape Cod style house watching Sophie go inside, it was with a sense of defeat and loneliness. On this particular night, though, it was more a feeling of: Oh my God, I’m alone with Adam again.

  But that was okay, she told herself. You’re strong, you’re capable, and everything’s going to be fine. After all, it was a twenty minute ride back to Destiny, not wild monkey sex. Well, maybe thirty on the snowy roads. But still not wild monkey sex.

  No, the wild sex had been last week.

  At moments, it all came back to her like a dream, something that couldn’t really have happened, but recalling it now, with Adam only a few feet away from her in the truck’s warm interior, she was reminded just how shockingly, deliciously real it had been.

  As Adam maneuvered the truck back onto the main road leading home, she couldn’t help wondering how her big plan to avoid him had somehow turned into them spending the entire afternoon and evening together. And so far she was doing a pretty bad job of “forgetting about it and acting normal,” although she hoped she’d at least started faking normal better as the hours had passed.

  But wait, no, not just faking. Some moments had honestly felt normal. Normal and real. As real as their night in that cabin—just in a different way. Standing in the snow taking pictures with him and Sophie—that had felt real. Drinking hot chocolate, trimming the tree—all that had felt real, too. Real and . . . sort of right. Sort of like . . . everything was as it should be.

  But that’s only because it made Sophie so happy, and because Adam is a good friend—it has nothing to do with the night you spent together.

  They rode in silence, other than the Christmas music coming from the radio—the only local station played Christmas songs from the day after Thanksgiving onward through the holiday, and sometimes, during December, they even strayed from their retro theme. Now was one of those times, and Jason Mraz’s peppy version of “Winter Wonderland” made her decide that, rather than being uncomfortable for the whole ride home, she should just be grateful instead, not only for Adam’s help with the lights but because he’d given Sophie such a nice day.

  “Thank you again,” she told him as the truck rounded a curve, the headlights carving out a path on the snow-covered highway before them. “I haven’t seen Sophie smile so much in a very long time.”

  Across the seat from her, he shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road as he answered. “Like I said earlier, it was fun for me, too.” But then he cast a quick sideways glance in her direction, one that made her feel . . . hmm, as if maybe he was talking about more kinds of fun than just building a snow cat and trimming a tree, like his fun had somehow included her as well. The look made something in her breasts tingle a little—until, that is, she gave herself a firm, Stop it!

  “Putting up lights was fun?” she asked doubtfully—mostly just to keep the conversation going.

  Adam offered up a comfortable smile as they passed the Destiny city limits sign. “All right—fun might be a stretch, but I didn’t mind it.”

  Slowly starting to feel a little more at ease—just like during the hot chocolate drinking and tree decorating—Sue Ann elaborated on what she’d said earlier. “I just don’t like finding tasks I can’t handle myself, you know? I like to think I can do everything on my own now that I really am . . . on my own.”

  “Thing is, Sue Ann, nobody’s good at everything, so we all need a little help sometimes.” He slowed a bit as they drove past the town square, as silent and snow-covered as a scene on a Christmas card. “Me, I’m good at putting up lights and carrying in trees. But when it comes to things you’re probably good at—like baking cookies and wrapping
presents—I’m . . . ”

  “All hooves?” she suggested.

  He let out a laugh. “Exactly.” Then he said, “So, not to bring up a sore subject, but I was wondering . . . how are things going since you got the news about Jeff trying to withdraw alimony?”

  She glanced over at him in the dark truck, glad he hadn’t brought this up in front of Sophie but also appreciating that he cared. She hadn’t felt like discussing it last week when it was brand new and too shocking, but she didn’t mind so much now. Even if she didn’t have anything positive to report. “Well, I’m trying to find a full-time job, but no luck yet. I guess if worse comes to worst, I’ll keep my part-time hours at the real estate office and get a second job waiting tables someplace in Crestview. At least my mother is willing to help with childcare whenever I need her.”

  His expression told her he realized, though, that such a situation would be way less than ideal. “That sounds like it could create a pretty rough schedule.”

  But she tried to shrug it off. “Gotta do what ya gotta do, right?”

  “Well, I’ll keep my ears open and let you know if I hear of anything.”

  “Thanks,” she said, then asked, “Have you talked to the boys much?” She didn’t want to bring up a sore subject with him, either, but she was sure Jacob and Joey were on his mind whether or not she mentioned them.

  He let out a long breath before answering, though his voice came steady and strong when he replied, “Every morning. And sometimes I get a later call, too.” The truck now traveled the small grid of streets that led back to Holly Lane. “They’re spending most days on the ski slopes, taking lessons—and according to their grandpa, they’re getting pretty good. Then they do homework in the evenings.”