Emma

Will helped Emma get Colin tucked into bed before leaving to help the building staff with his tree. Emma used the extra time to freshen up. She didn’t know what had come over her, but something had changed during the drive home. Something that made her brave enough to want Will. Or at least brave enough to entertain the possibility of it.

She brushed out her long blonde hair and changed into her pajamas, cursing herself for not packing anything cute. All she had was the same red plaid bottoms and a deep blue long sleeve top that had the words, ‘J’adore Dior’ printed in gold foil letters. She slipped on a pair of fuzzy argyle socks and headed for the door, stopping to pop a Tic Tac for good luck.

By the time Emma got to Will’s, he already had his massive tree in the tree stand thanks to the burly hotel staff that was just leaving.

“Wow, cutting it a little close?” Emma asked pointing to the top of the tree that was dangerously close to the ceiling.

“Nah, it’s perfect,” Will replied. “You look comfy,” he noted, taking in her appearance.

“Oh, yeah.” Emma nervously looked down at her unflattering pajamas. “I needed to get out of my boots, so I went for comfort.”

“Good call. Give me a minute to change,” Will called disappearing down the hall. “You can start on the lights if you want.”

Emma stared at the four plastic containers labeled ‘Taylor Christmas.’ Was that an invitation to stay and decorate? She’d only planned to come over to thank Will for another great day and perhaps kiss him goodnight if she didn’t lose her nerve.

But when Will jogged back out looking positively delicious in his own plaid pajama bottoms, fuzzy socks and gray t-shirt she decided she would definitely stay if he offered. He still had his beanie on and when her eyes flicked to it he seemed to remember and pulled it off, sending his dark locks into chaos. He ran a hand through his hair but it only made it worse.

“Here,” Emma offered reaching up to smooth down his snow-damp hair. The sensation of it slipping through her fingers did unmentionable things to her insides. “There,” she said pulling her fingers away before she got carried away.

“Thanks,” Will replied, his voice thicker than usual.

They both stood there staring at each other for a long moment before Will cleared his throat. “I’m gonna grab some of Sharon’s famous eggnog. Do you want some?”

“Sure,” Emma whispered, second-guessing her bravery.

* * *

 The eggnog definitely helped. Three glasses later Emma couldn’t remember why she’d been so nervous to be alone with Will. Christmas music blared, a fire roared and Will’s tree was perfectly decorated. The only thing left to do was adorn the top with the star. But the two of them couldn’t agree on the best method.

“I could Elf it,” Will suggested.

“Elf it?”

“Ya know, get a running start and jump off the couch.”

Emma snorted. “Because that turned out so well for Elf.”

“Okay, what’s your idea, genius?”

“Put me on your shoulders.”

Will scratched his chin. “That could work, but . . .”

“But nothing. It’ll totally work.”

“I don’t know. You’re kinda like the eighth dwarf . . . tipsy.”

Will laughed at his joke and Emma scowled at him. “I am not. I haven’t even had anything to drink.”

Will smirked at her. “You know there’s bourbon in the eggnog, right?”

“I do now!”

He laughed. “Maybe maintenance can bring up a ladder.”

“You can’t call them at midnight and ask for a ladder,” Emma scoffed. “Just man up and put me on your shoulders.”

“Okay but if this goes down like a bad cheer stunt remember you suggested it.”

“Will Taylor, did you just make a cheerleading joke? Have you been watching ‘Bring It On’ without me?” she teased, referring to the summer she’d wanted to try out for the cheerleading team and made Will watch all the ‘Bring It On’ movies on repeat only to chicken out at the audition.

“Just get over here already,” he said sounding exasperated.

Will knelt down so Emma could sling her legs over his shoulders.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

“You better use those spirit fingers to hang on tight,” he instructed before standing to his full height.

Emma shrieked, wrapping her hands around his face, only to feel him shaking with laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“You never would’ve made the cheerleading squad.”

“What? Why not?”

“You’re sorta choking me out with your thighs. And it would be helpful if you didn’t hang onto my face. Being able to see is kinda crucial.”

“Oh, right,” Emma said laughing. “Sorry.” She slid her trembling hands to his head instead, but she still couldn’t quite command her thighs to unclench. “Is that better?”

He laughed, handing her the star. “It’ll do.”

Will moved closer to the tree and Emma strained to lean far enough to place the star on top. Once she got it into position she slowly removed her shaking hands. When it stayed she let out a whoop and clapped her hands. “We did it!”

“Now for the dismount,” Will announced.

“What?”

But Emma’s answer came when Will shifted suddenly to the left and her world tilted violently. She shrieked closing her eyes, sure she was about to end up headfirst of the floor, but an instant later she felt Will’s strong arms around her, cradling her from the fall.

“I’ve got you, Em,” he whispered, his voice warm against her ear.

She opened her eyes and stared into his. Will was smiling at her in a way that would ignite a Yule log. “You know I’d never let you fall, right?”

She nodded silently, still gazing into the sparking pools of his blue eyes. God, she wanted to drown in them. But she was frozen, powerless to turn this magic moment into something more. And just like that it passed.

Will set Emma on her feet and backed away to take in the Christmas tree in all its splendor. “That’s a damn fine tree,” he announced.

Emma moved to his side to admire it and agreed. “It’s perfect.”

“Sorta makes ya wish Christmas came more than once a year, right?” Will added.

Emma snorted. “I don’t know if I could handle that.”

Will gave her a troubled look and pulled her over to the couch. Emma knew that look. It was his problem-solving look.

When they were sitting, much closer than necessary, Will took her hands. “So you made my Christmas suck a little less,” he murmured. “Tell me how I can fix yours.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Oh come on. Is it really that bad?” he teased. “You might not be Teddy and Tara’s biggest fan but at least you’re not gonna be alone for Christmas.”

Emma stared at Will for a quiet moment before she did what she’d come over here to do. “Neither are you.”

“Did you get me tickets to Dubai? Because I’m certain there’s no way my parents are cutting their trip short anytime soon.”

“No.”

“Then I’m still gonna be alone for Christmas.”

“No you’re not,” Emma said surer this time. “Spend Christmas with me.”

“Really?” he asked sounding surprised. “That’s what you want?”

“Yeah, we’re friends, right?

“Right,” he whispered, looking at her in that way again. That way that made her hot and bothered in all the right places.

“But don’t get your hopes up,” she warned. “Christmas at my father’s probably won’t be any better than being here alone considering he hasn’t included me in any of his plans since he got here, but . . . there’s no reason we should both be alone on Christmas.”

Will squeezed Emma’s hands for a quiet moment, then looked into her eyes. “Emma thank you for including me. I’ll be there. But can you do one thing for me?”

“What?”

“Talk to your father. Tell him how you feel or things are never gonna change.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Sure, I’ll talk to him when you talk to your parents.”

“I tell my parents how I feel all the time. I don’t matter enough to them, but you matter to your father.”

Emma’s heart broke a little to hear Will say he didn’t matter to his parents with such acceptance. “What makes you think my father’s any different than your parents?”

“Because he was a good father to you before the divorce. And I know he still cares about you. We talk about you all the time. I think he just doesn’t know how to be a part of your life anymore. You chose your mother over him and he’s not sure how he fits anymore.”

“He said that?”

Will nodded.

“Why would he ever think that?” But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew exactly why. Up until the pictures from Cranston’s and the winter formal started circulating, Emma had decided to stay in New York with her father. But the next day, heartbreak and embarrassment had driven Emma to take her mother’s offer to move to Boston and escape her problems. Emma packed her things and left with her mother right before Christmas without even offering anyone an explanation, including her father.

“I know how he feels, Em. It hurts to be left behind. It makes you feel like you’re not good enough.”

“I never wanted anyone to feel like that,” she whispered. “It’s just . . . I was a mess. I’m still a mess.”

“Then talk to him. Tell him that. Don’t leave things unsaid. Especially not with the people you love.”

Will was staring at Emma so intently she knew they were no longer talking only about her father. There were many things left unsaid between Emma and Will too. And as they inched closer to each other on the couch, the things Emma longed to say came dangerously close to spilling out.

But today had been perfect. She didn’t want to ruin it. Or rather let Liz ruin it by bringing her back into the conversation. Emma closed her eyes and pushed Liz Vanderveer out of her mind.

“Maybe now is a good time to continue our conversation from the tree farm,” she ventured.

Will looked down for a beat, seeming to collect himself. “I’m sorry I blurted it out like that, Emma. But it’s how I feel. It’s how I’ve always felt.”

“So you want to have a family with me?”

“I want everything with you, Em.”

“Don’t you think we’re skipping a few steps?” she asked.

“Maybe. But I don’t want to lose you again. I don’t think I could survive it.”

Emma closed her eyes again. Guilt lanced her now that she knew how badly she’d hurt Will. She’d never meant to. When she opened her eyes Will was only a breath away. He stroked her cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered softly at her jaw, tilting it ever so slightly toward his.

Emma’s breath hitched, her face so close to Will’s that his breath brushed her lips teasingly. Her whole body tingled with anticipation as Will trailed a finger down the column of her neck. It felt like tiny flames were licking a trail beneath his touch. Emma sighed and leaned into him.

“God, I want to kiss you,” he whispered.

“What’s stopping you?”

“You are.”

Emma’s glassy eyes blinked open. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want me to kiss you, Emma?”

“I think so,” she said breathlessly.

“When you know without a doubt . . . I’ll be waiting.”

Then, before Emma knew what was happening, Will stood up and led her to the door.

Befuddled, Emma found herself alone in the harsh light of her building’s hallway, with an ache deep in her bones.

Will

Regret flooded Will the instant he shut the door. His libido chastised him as every last ounce of blood in his veins screamed at him to rush into that hallway and pin Emma against the wall until he kissed her like he’d always wanted to—like his life depended on it. Because at the moment it felt like it did. He felt like he might have lost his damn mind letting her walk away when she’d been willing to let him kiss her.

Let, he reminded himself. He didn’t want to just have Emma let him kiss her. He wanted her to want it, to need it, the way he did. The way he felt it deep in his bones.

Will ran his hands through his hair in frustration, muttering obscenities as he marched to his bathroom, cranking the shower knob as cold as it would go.

Emma

Emma stumbled into her father’s apartment, still confused as to what went wrong with Will. But her confusion only grew when she heard her father call her name from somewhere in the dining room.

She paused, thinking she must truly have lost her mind. Since when did her father wait up for her?

She popped her head in just to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. But there was her father, clutching a glass of scotch with a tired expression etched into the lines of his face. Emma blinked hard. How much eggnog had she drank?

She felt like she was visiting the ghost of Christmas past—where her father still drank scotch and Will was oblivious to Emma’s advances. If her mother came waltzing down the hall next, Emma was going to run screaming from the the house.

“Where have you been, Emma?” her father asked sounding more upset than he had any right to.

“At Will’s,” she said defensively.

“Oh.” He looked as though her answer had taken the fight out of him. “You could at least let us know where you are.”

“Since when do you care?” she spat.

He father stood so abruptly the chair screeched backward and Emma retreated a step. Seeing her do so must’ve dissolved her father’s anger. His face crumbled as he sat back down, taking a long drink from his glass. “I guess I deserve that.”

“I’m sorry, Dad, but you kinda do.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“Not really,” she muttered, turning to leave even though her anger was simmering.

“Fine,” he replied shaking his head. “But I’m disappointed in you.”

Emma whirled around. “Me? What about you?” Emma screeched.

She marched back into the dining room and laid into her father, unleashing all her frustrations thanks to the liquid courage provided by the eggnog she’d been knocking back at Will’s.

She’d thought after what Will had told her, she’d go easy on her father, but something had snapped inside her tonight when Will sent her home wanting. Emma was through being denied the things she wanted in life. And she wanted a relationship with her father. She wouldn’t settle for being shoved aside and she was going to make sure he knew that.

When she was done, her chest was heaving and she’d spewed all her injustices. The fact that she didn’t have a bedroom, the way her father had unloaded Tara, Colin, a wedding and a pregnancy on her without any warning, and how he hadn’t made any time for her since she’d come home. But when Emma looked at her father, who’d stayed uncharacteristically quiet through her rant, he was grinning, which only fueled her irritation. “Why are you smiling?”

“Because I’d take you yelling at me any day over ignoring me. If you’re yelling it means you still care. At least it did with your mother. That’s how I knew it was over between us, your mother and me, I mean.”

“Oh,” Emma said sinking down into a chair at the table.

Her father smiled wistfully. “You’re so much like her, ya know?”

Emma nodded. She was the spitting image of her mother, right down to the blonde hair, green eyes, and apparently, fiery temper.

Her father reached across the table and took Emma’s hand. “I want to make sure you understand something, sweetheart. When things fell apart between your mother and I, I wasn’t at my best and I’m sorry for what that did to our relationship. But I want you to know no matter what happens, nothing will ever make you stop being my daughter. I love you so much, Em. You know that, right?”

Emma’s eyes welled as she looked at him. She’d wanted to hear him say that for so long. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed back her tears and nodded. “I know, Dad.”

“And you’re right. I need to do a better job of showing you that. This apartment was only meant to be temporary. It’s part of the reason I didn’t want you to come to the city yet.”

“What do you mean?”

Her father sighed. “I was hoping to keep this for part of your Christmas surprise, but the reason I haven’t been around very much is because I’ve been meeting with a team of builders who are working around the clock to get our new home ready. I was hoping it would be finished by Christmas, but they’re behind schedule. It’ll be New Year’s Eve at best.”

“You’re moving again?”

He nodded. “We all are.”

“Do I have a room there?”

He nodded again, grinning this time. “Would you like to see it?”

“Yes,” Emma said breathlessly as warmth and love bloomed in her chest. He hadn’t forgotten about her after all.

“I can’t wait to show it to you. It’s really something. You have a great big bedroom and attached . . . well, I’ll let that be the surprise. We can go tomorrow morning if you’d like, just me and you.”

“I’d like that, Dad.”

“Good. Just don’t tell Tara and Colin yet. I want it to be a surprise.”

“I won’t.”

Her father stood and walked over to her chair, pulling it out so he could wrap her up in a hug. “Emma, thank you for talking to me. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”