CHAPTER 6
Grace took a sip of the apple cider ale the bartender, Scott MacNamara, slid in front of her. The wood-paneled Irish pub was packed with locals, chattering and laughing under the strings of Christmas lights that hung in loops from the ceiling. The whole bar, apparently, was going caroling soon, including a guy sitting next to her at the bar dressed as Santa. A friendly, fun place, if you lived here and knew everyone.
As it was, Grace was just going through the motions. She’d stopped by to have a drink with the kind people who’d helped her in the bridal shop, after which she planned to quickly bow out and go back to her room. However, they weren’t even here yet, and all the other friendly people were keeping her busy chatting at a time when making conversation felt as painful as gallbladder surgery.
She didn’t want to think of Graham. Or how she’d blown everything. Or how much she missed him already. She was so lost in thought, she didn’t realize Scott was waiting for her reaction to the drink. “Local company,” he said, nodding to her glass, where the apple cider ale fizzed cheerily.
“Oh, really?” she said, pretending to be more interested than she was. “How local?”
“Those three guys sitting right there,” he said, pointing to three good-looking guys seated around a crowded table. “The Spikonos brothers. They make brandy, but this is their first foray into hard cider.”
She, like Santa, did a double take. “The one on the end looks like Lukas Spikonos, the rock star.”
“He’s from here. But everyone leaves him alone, if you know what I mean.”
Santa was still eyeballing the brothers.
“Hey, Santa, you okay over there?” Scott asked. “You want to try a hard cider?”
Santa put up a hand and mumbled no thanks, then went back to watching football on the big screen behind the bar.
“Delicious,” Grace said, giving her best smile, even though her heart was splintered in two.
Scott’s eyes narrowed. “Nice try, but you seem upset. Where’s that guy who got bucked by the reindeer?”
“He took a bus home to see his brother before he leaves for deployment.”
Graham. He’d told her he loved her. He’d offered her a second chance and she’d rejected him. She thought about calling him, but would he even take her call? On a bus surrounded by people? All she knew was she was so, so sorry, but she had no idea how she would even get him to believe her. She’d acted like she didn’t care, like she didn’t love him. Her gut told her it was too late.
As she fretted about what to do, more people entered the bar. The police chief, Tom, had his arm around Alex from the bridal shop, and Meg came in with her husband, Dr. Ben. The women recognized her immediately and walked right over to the bar.
“How are you doing, honey?” Alex asked, as if they were old friends instead of having just met an hour ago.
Grace held up her cider. “Just sampling the local flavor,” Grace said. “And thank both of you for being so kind. I’m fine, honestly.”
“Grace, I want you to meet someone,” Meg said, giving her a side hug. “This is Tiffany Richards. She helps run the battered women’s shelter. It’s one of the places we’re caroling tonight.”
Grace shook hands with a woman with long wavy red hair, who wore a red coat and a red dress and heels. “It’s great to meet you, Grace,” she said, perching on the seat to Grace’s left. “I’ll just come right out and ask you—do you have any books left? The kids at the shelter would love them. And we’ll be stopping there during caroling tonight.”
Grace really did not want to go anywhere where she had to smile and talk to people. Or sing, for that matter. But it was Christmas Eve, and kids were involved. So she’d take the distraction and do something besides feel sorry for herself. “I’d love to give them out,” she said. “Sounds like a plan.”
Scott put a heaping plate of nachos in front of her. “On the house,” he said. “We heard what you did at the hospital today.”
“Oh…you didn’t have to do that.” She felt uncomfortable being thanked. Plus she felt like she had a pile of boulders filling up her stomach. There was no way she could eat.
“Please share these with me,” she said to her seatmates. “Are you going caroling too?” she asked Santa, more to be friendly than anything else.
He cleared his throat. “Yep. Presents to give out at the hospital later.” Grace thought he was a big guy, older, but up close, he just looked large, in a muscular way. He also looked young, maybe even younger than she was, and one of his eyebrows was falling off, but she hesitated to tell him so. And he certainly didn’t seem very jolly. But who was she to judge?
She’d visit the shelter with all the carolers as she promised and then quietly return to the hotel and call it a night. And then what? The long, lonely hours ahead did not seem appealing, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She’d booked a ticket on the morning bus tomorrow.
“You’re the Santa the temp agency sent over, right?” Tiffany said. “See me after the caroling. I’ll have your check.” She reached over the bar in front of Grace and smoothed his fake brow back down. “There you go.”
Suddenly, the redheaded woman hesitated. Looked hard into Santa’s eyes and frowned. “You from here?”
The young Santa blushed under his fake beard. “You’re mistaken, lady. I’m just passing through town.”
The loud idle of a motor, a blast of exhaust, and the squeak of brakes sounded from outside the bar, turning everyone’s attention to the door.
Someone wiped a circle in one of the foggy windows. “There’s a Greyhound sitting out there.”
“There’s a dog in the snow?” a dark-haired woman with Italian features said, standing up. “Let’s bring him in!”
“I think they mean a Greyhound bus, Bella,” a darkly handsome man said next to her, tugging her down.
“Those damn tourists,” Scott said, coming around the bar. “I’ll tell them to head to one of the bars on Main Street.”
Before Grace could take a gulp of her drink or Scott could reach the door, it opened. And in the doorway, taking up a good portion of it with his wide shoulders, was Graham.
* * *
Graham. At the sight of his face, so familiar, so dear, Grace’s breath caught. Her heart felt as full and heavy as a basketball trapped in her chest. Graham slid into the now-empty chair next to her. “Did the bus break down?” she asked, mentally smacking herself for not saying something, anything, better than small talk. Fear seemed to freeze her tongue. Actually, she was terrified. Not to mention shaking all over.
He reached over and took a sip of her drink. “Nope. I’m back because I paid the driver a hundred bucks.” He smiled. “And promised everyone a free drink.” Sure enough, a gaggle of people were piling from the bus into the bar.
A middle-aged man passed by, playfully slapping Graham on the back on his way to the counter. “Thanks a lot, buddy.”
“No problem, Ed,” Graham said. He turned to Grace. “I’m here because of you.”
She looked up at him. “Because of me?” she whispered. Oh, one look in his warm brown eyes and she lost it. Relief and panic coursed through her. He’d come back for her? Despite the fact that she’d rejected him and hadn’t even had the courage to tell him how she really felt?
How could someone love her like that?
He placed his big hand over hers where she’d rested it on top of the mahogany bar. “Yeah,” he said. “Because I can’t live without you. Because I regret what happened to us every second of my life. Because I love you, and I believe we can begin again.”
“I ran after you, but by the time I got to the lobby, you were gone.” She stood up and ran her hand down his cheek, feeling the soft and scratchy textures of his skin. Like life, maybe. The better and the worse. Now it was time for the truth. He’d done everything for her, even stopped the bus and come back. She owed it to him to be honest.
“You’re the love of my life, Graham. I’ve never stopped needing you. I did a terrible job telling you that. I tried to steel myself against feeling things, like I was protecting myself from more hurt. And I never told you how much I loved you, but Graham, I never stopped.”
Their lips met, soft and warm and wonderful, under the festive lights. Grace slid her hands around his neck and kissed him like she’d never kissed him before. Kisses of passion and, more importantly, of promise, that they would stick together no matter what life threw at them next. He tasted like apple cider ale and forever, a pretty amazing combination.
“Last call for Philly,” the bus driver yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Hey, buddy, you on the bus or no?”
“You can’t miss Christmas,” Grace whispered. “Your brother.”
“Christmas is wherever you are, Grace,” Graham said. “And I wouldn’t miss that for the world.” He gathered her hands in his. She felt his warmth spread all through her. “We can both get on the early bus tomorrow. Come home with me. We’ll spend Christmas together. And every day after that.”
“I’d love to go home with you,” she said. “I’ve missed your family.”
“They’ve missed you too. My mother will be thrilled. She hasn’t been the same since we split up.”
She stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. “Then let’s never split up again.”
“I don’t ever want to spend another night apart from you. Even if it involves neuro checks every two hours with blinding lights.” And he kissed her, long and sweet and slow.
* * *
They spent the next few hours caroling and eating and drinking. Everyone was so well-intentioned and friendly that it was difficult to extricate themselves from the great company. It was near midnight when Graham gathered their coats and they finally made their way to the door.
“Are you sorry we stayed so late?” Grace asked Graham.
If it had been up to him, he would’ve left hours ago. “Well, I’ve wanted to be alone with you since the second I walked in, but it’s been great to get to know everyone.”
“I think we’ve made friends for life,” she said.
“Maybe we should come back when the car’s done and check this place out some more.”
“You can’t leave yet,” Scott said.
Okay, these small-town people were great, but this was getting a little ridiculous. Because he wanted to get out of here and make love to his wife.
Something bumped Graham’s elbow. It was Santa, who still hadn’t taken off his suit or hat. The guy had to be baking under all those layers.
“We have a tradition in this bar at midnight,” Scott said.
“Scotty, you are such a bullshitter,” Drew Spikonos said. “He’s got a tradition every night at midnight. It helps him sell drinks.”
“Shut up, Spikonos,” Scott said. “Everyone needs someone to kiss to bring Christmas in.”
“What about you?” Drew asked.
“Are you volunteering?” Scott asked, and Drew made a face.
Graham wrapped his arm around Grace’s waist. “I’ve got my someone,” he said as she smiled and leaned closer to him. At least if they had to stay, he’d get a few kisses in.
“Okay, Santa old boy, pucker up!” Tiffany said, being a good sport about kissing the odd Santa. “But don’t get gropey, you hear?”
The old-fashioned cuckoo clock above the bar struck midnight. Snow fell heavily outside the fogged windows. And everywhere, couples young and old kissed. Graham gathered Grace in his arms and placed his lips close to her ear. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered. Then he kissed her, smooth and slow, enjoying the feel of her soft lips on his, and the way she fit perfectly in his arms. Where she belonged. He took his time because he wanted to get it right. He wanted it to be a Christmas kiss that was the most tender, wonderful, forgiving, and promising kiss she’d ever had. One for the ages.
Next to them, Santa seemed to really plant one on the young woman who ran the shelter. Afterward, she was breathing a little hard. She reached up and pulled off his once-again dangling white brow in one quick movement.
“You’re not old. You’re young.” She looked from the caterpillar-like brow in her palm to Santa’s face. “Do I—know you?”
“Looks like Santa’s looking for a happy ending too,” Graham said.
“Or at least a beginning,” Grace said.
“Merry Christmas, everybody,” Scott said as folks held up their drinks. “Good health, good cheer, and good friends to get you through.”
“Merry Christmas,” Graham called. “Hey!” he said to Grace, grinning widely. “Wonder if we won the lottery?” He held up the ticket from his pocket.
She slid it out of his hands, tore it in two, and let it fall to the floor. “We won the lottery, big guy. In every way that counts.” Then she kissed him again, and he had to agree that yes, he’d won the jackpot, all right. And he had a feeling that this was about to be the best Christmas ever.