Second Chance Christmas. Tanya Michaels

Second Chance Christmas - Tanya  Michaels


Скачать книгу
suddenly felt sheepish, as if he’d tracked mud into his mother’s clean kitchen. “I should have brought flowers.” Something seasonal, like poinsettias. “I know you loved Christmas, Mom, but it hasn’t been the same since you died.”

      That first year, his father had been too devastated to remember the holiday. If it weren’t for the gentle interference of their aunts, the Cade children wouldn’t have had anything to unwrap Christmas morning. Then they lost their dad, too. Throughout Justin’s adolescence, they’d occasionally accepted invitations to join well-meaning families in the community, but it was awkward, being the gloomy thundercloud that hung over someone else’s festivities. They got in the habit of staying home, where Colin microwaved dinner and the two brothers taught Arden how to play cards. That’s what the holiday season had become for Justin—rubbery lasagna and explaining blackjack to his sister.

      Now, he survived November to January by hoping for good ski conditions and ignoring the hectic whirl of shopping, decorating and televised specials.

      His mind slipped to the Donnellys. While he’d never been inside their house around Christmas, he imagined it was thoroughly decorated. After all, Mrs. Donnelly had gone to great efforts simply for his birthday—streamers and humorous miniposters, balloons on the mailbox and an elaborate home-cooked meal. They were a close-knit family who liked to celebrate together.

      Yet Elisabeth was choosing to move away. Brushing his hand over the smooth, cold edge of his parents’ gravestone, he couldn’t help but wonder, did she have any idea what she was giving up?

      Chapter Four

      Elisabeth finished drying her hands and consulted her watch. 11:28 a.m. She should hurry back out to the lobby and—

      No. No hurrying. She wasn’t some sixteen-year-old eager to see her boyfriend. She was a grown woman who was doing Justin a favor by meeting him. Frankly, her schedule was already full. The lodge was doing brisk holiday business, and Steven was arriving tonight. She’d shuffled several tasks to squeeze in this lunch. It might do Justin some good to wait a few minutes.

      Taking her time, she pulled her brush and lipstick out of her purse, but then stopped. She might not want to rush on Justin Cade’s behalf, but she wasn’t about to primp for him, either. He was not the reason she’d dressed that morning in formfitting black jeans and a gold sweater that was both festive and complemented her coloring. No, if she’d put any extra care into her appearance, it was for her fiancé.

      She pushed open the door to the ladies’ room and made her way through the evergreen-scented lobby. In addition to the fourteen-foot tree the staff had helped decorate, Elisabeth and her father had hung a dozen wreaths throughout the main building. Currently, her dad was working a shift as ski lift operator, and she hoped he’d stay out of the main building while Justin was here. For a month after the breakup, Graham Donnelly had threatened daily to “give that bounder a piece of my mind.”

      Elisabeth had also gently maneuvered her mother, Patti, into leaving the premises. The school system’s two-week winter break kicked off today with an early release for students. Patti was picking up Kaylee from school and taking her to lunch. As difficult as the past few months had been for Kaylee, the one bright spot had been watching a girl who’d never had an extended family blossom under the attention of doting grandparents and a conspiratorial aunt.

      Thoughts of Kaylee’s lunch plans scattered when Elisabeth locked eyes with her own lunch date. Justin leaned against the corner of the reception desk. Though his body language was relaxed, he had that intense, hyperalert gaze that had so often caused her stomach to flutter. Of all her reasons to be angry with him, that gaze topped the list.

      Elisabeth wasn’t naive—she’d heard rumors about Justin before dating him. But since she didn’t let gossip make her decisions for her, she’d gone out with him, prepared to make up her own mind. In spite of his flirtatious, skirt-chasing reputation, he’d never looked at another female when he was with Elisabeth. He’d smiled absently when a cute waitress fawned over him without ever taking his eyes off his date.

      When he’d unceremoniously dumped her, he’d reminded her, “I told you I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I didn’t lie.” But he had. Not verbally, but with his actions. He’d made her feel adored and singularly special.

      While she and Kaylee were in New Mexico visiting Steven, he’d apologized for being preoccupied with the software update his company was about to release. Frankly, Elisabeth found it a relief to be with someone who didn’t constantly make her feel like the center of his universe. The heady euphoria wasn’t worth the harsh disillusionment.

      She didn’t realize how reluctant her steps had become until Justin gave up waiting on her and met her halfway, moving with that unconscious swagger of his. Damn it. Even the way the man walked was irritating.

      He took her hand between both of his. “Beth. You look great.” There was a raspy quality to his deep voice that always made his words sound more intimate than they should.

      “Elisabeth,” she corrected, withdrawing her hand. “No one calls me Beth.” She wasn’t the type of person who inspired nicknames. As a child, she’d been shy and serious—the worrier on the sidelines who did her best to keep her reckless twin out of trouble. As an adult, Elisabeth only revealed her fun-loving side to a select few. She commanded a sizable staff and sometimes had to deal with difficult guests. People needed to take her seriously.

      She ignored the undignified memory of shrieking with laughter as Justin tickled her one morning. Justin didn’t do “serious.” At least, not in his personal life.

      “I asked the restaurant manager to have a table ready.” She was proud of her casual tone. No reason to get emotional about this. “I can spare about half an hour.”

      He nodded. “Same here. Lead the way.”

      In the evenings, a hostess seated diners, but during the slower day shifts while many guests were on the slopes, restaurant manager Javier Ortiz did double duty. Javier, a slim man with salt-and-pepper hair, had started as a busboy when Elisabeth was in sixth grade. When he saw her with Justin, he did an almost comical double take.

      “Señor Cade. It has been a long time.” He cut his dark eyes toward Elisabeth, as if seeking guidance on whether he should be happy to see Justin. Whatever Javier glimpsed in her posture or face led him to instruct, “This way, Señor” in a clipped tone he never would have used with a guest.

      After they were seated, Justin shook his head with a self-deprecating smile. “I think it’s safe to say I’m no longer on Javier’s Christmas card list.” He tapped his napkin-wrapped silverware. “In fact, I kind of got the feeling he might come at me with one of these knives.”

      She unrolled her own cloth napkin and studied the butter knife. “If it makes you feel better, I doubt these would do much damage.” She paused a beat. “But I suppose he could always grab one from the kitchen.”

      “He wouldn’t be the first to ambush me this week. Do you know your sister recently threatened to tear me limb from limb?”

      “Lina?” It was a dumb response—she had only one sister. One highly confusing and increasingly erratic sister. When Elisabeth had announced her engagement, Lina seemed to take the news as a personal affront. Next she’d overcompensated by acting as if they were teenage BFFs who should be together or be texting every waking second. Finally, and most bizarrely, Lina had thrown herself at Justin on the dance floor with all the subtlety of a brick.

      Then again, a case could be made for throwing bricks at Justin.

      While Elisabeth momentarily indulged in that fantasy, he’d begun speaking again. “Lina and I saw each other at the sporting goods shop. She was pretty angry, ranting at me that your engagement is...might be emotional fallout from... There’s no way to say this without sounding like a deluded egomaniac.”

      “You’ve never let that stop you before,” she said sweetly.

      “Does your moving away have anything to do


Скачать книгу