Christmas Is for Lovers: 6 Hot Holiday Romances Page 14

  Beau didn’t say a word, but he walked to me and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. “I brought you a surprise.”

  With the bag in between us, I fell into his chest, crushing its contents. “I’m sorry, Beau. You are so good, and I don’t deserve you.”

  He chuckled, “No, you deserve better than me, but you’ll have to live with the disappointment.” One more quick peck on my lips, and he was off gathering wood.

  I rushed into the cabin to put the components on a tray. First went the marshmallows, then the chocolate bars, and finally, the graham crackers. Chocolate kisses and peppermint candies were the last items I removed from the bag. Beau was looking for something special tonight. I popped a peppermint into my mouth and rushed outside. I had a sweet little boy and a sexy hot musician waiting for me.

  Tommy tittered on about the fish he was certain was forty inches long. I stared into the fire, trying to figure out how I’d make things right with my mom. She wasn’t completely at fault. She’d bailed on me the first ten years, and I’d bailed on her the last. I’d say we were about even. In the future, I’d have to make coming home a priority. Seeing Mom once a year in New York wasn’t going to mend the fences we’d erected around our hearts. I needed her, and she needed me. We’d figure it out.

  Beau’s ringing phone silenced everything. “Hello? Oh, hey, Brent, did you get me what I wanted?”

  Tommy and I chowed down on S’mores while Beau talked. “What do you mean no?”

  Uh oh, this didn’t sound good at all. I tapped Tommy’s arm to get his attention and pointed toward the dock, but Beau shook his head and signaled for us to stay.

  “It’s three days before Christmas, and he can’t wait?” His jaw muscles flexed and tightened. “Hold on.”

  Beau covered the receiver with his hand. “It’s my agent. I’ve been trying to reschedule this meeting with Rocco for after Christmas, but he insists we meet tomorrow. I can fly out tomorrow morning and be back tomorrow night.”

  My heart ached with the knowledge he’d be leaving me again, and he must have seen it on my face.

  “I’m coming back, Mandy.”

  I knew I was being silly. Hadn’t he told me about this opportunity just days before? It was the biggest deal of his career. How could I deny him?

  “I know, you should go, you need to go.”

  He beamed me a bright smile then uncovered his phone and pulled it to his ear. “I’ll be there tomorrow at noon. You have tomorrow to close this deal, Brent, because I want to be with my family.” His meaning was clear when he said the word family, his love for Tommy and me was written all over his face.

  With Tommy tucked into bed, I found Beau at the kitchen table looking over the contract Brent had emailed him. It was easy to wrap my arms around his neck, easier to nibble at his neck, but what was hard to take in were the zeroes in his contract. “Is that millions?”

  He tugged me close enough to kiss me. Yep, he was chocolate, and I had eaten a peppermint.

  “Perfect.” He licked his lips and spun me around to sit on his lap.

  “No…really…is that millions? Is that for the whole band?”

  Wood on wood was never a great sound, but I barely paid attention to the screech when Beau slid his chair out and turned me to straddle him.

  “Yes, it’s millions and no, it’s our share.”

  “Ours?”

  “Baby, what do think us being together means?”

  “Oh, Beau, I don’t want your money. I’m just flabbergasted you make so much.” His scruff felt divine against my face. Yep, all I needed was him.

  “I generally give half to charity. Soup kitchens have received the bulk of my donations in the past. Every check I wrote made me feel closer to you.” His hands gripped my ass and pulled me tight against him.

  “I love that you give as much as you get. You’ve always been generous to a fault.” Generous enough to give me the freedom to find myself, but I was nothing without him.

  “Shall we go to bed so I can give you more?”

  I hopped off his laps and started toward the bedroom. “Race you.”

  Despite my head start, he made it to the bed before me, but I was naked before him. By the look in his eyes, he was going to be downright philanthropic tonight.

  “Mandy, I’ve got to go.” His lips hovered over mine. “I have just enough time to get down the mountain and catch my plane. I’ll be home tonight.” He brushed at my lips. “There’s money on the counter, maybe you and Tommy can get a new tree and put it up here. Wouldn’t it be nice to bring in our first Christmas together?” His hand slipped under the T-shirt I wore and cupped my breast. “I want to kill my agent right now. I want you so damn bad.”

  “I want you, too, but you have to go, and I have to be at the shop. It’s come to work with Mommy day.”

  Beau kissed me once more before he left. The minute I heard his car rumble to life, I felt empty inside. However, I didn’t have time to let the feeling soak in and take over. Tommy and I had a lot to take care of today.

  He was sitting at the table with a bowl of Chex and glass of juice. “Did you get that yourself?” I squeezed behind him and scooted into the corner chair by the window.

  “No, Daddy Beau got it for me.” My heart lurched. “He also made you coffee.” Tommy tilted his head toward the counter where a cup was waiting for me. “I think he’s trying to reel you in, Mommy. You’re the fish he’s trying to catch.”

  It had been a long time since I’d snorted when I laughed. Damn good thing I didn’t have a mouthful of coffee, or I would have spit it everywhere.

  “How do you think he’s doing?”

  “How am I supposed to know, I’m only six?”

  For a six year-old, he understood far too much. “We have to go to the shop and then to see Grandma. Let’s get shaking.”

  Fifteen minutes later, we were on our way. When we got to the shop, Misty was on full-tilt. We had a large cookie order that no one bothered to mention, and she was racing around the backroom like a headless chicken. The one benefit to being so busy was I didn’t have time to worry about anything but cookies. Tommy sat in the corner, colored, and ate far too many sweets. I’d called in backup help that would arrive around noon. They might be teenagers, but they were going to earn their pay.

  Lola and Sam arrived at noon. I put them to work icing the wreaths. If my young son could ice a cookie, so could a kid three times his age. It turned out, they couldn’t. Two dozen cookies had to be rescued before I assigned one of the girls dishes and the other the register. My mother was right. No one could run this shop better than a Sawyer. Mom had to get right as rain soon. The shop wouldn’t survive long-term without her.

  Once everything was under control, Tommy and I headed home. A big Tippy’s Restoration truck was outside, along with an industrial size dumpster. My hopes didn’t soar because I knew nothing but carpet and sheetrock would go into that bin. Mom would hang on to everything else like it was a lifeline.

  “Mom?” I tiptoed in and peeked around the corner, two men were sweeping up what was left. All that remained in the living room was two by four walls, a water-stained subfloor, and dangling overhead lights. I found Mom putting fresh grounds in the old percolator. “Mom?” I repeated. She cocked her head my way. She’d aged a decade overnight. “I’m so sorry.” I ran to her and hugged her with all my might. She was my mother, and despite her being her, I loved her.

  “Where’s Tommy?” Of course, she would ruin my warm gooey feeling of affection by not acknowledging my apology.

  “He’s upstairs packing his bag. We’re staying at the cabin.”

  Mom pulled two cups from the cupboard and set them on the counter before she shuffled to her seat. The kitchen had escaped ruin, as did the upstairs. The major fatalities involved the living room, the staircase, and the basement, which housed Mom’s treasures.

  “We have to talk, Mom.” The chair scraped across the checkered floor. When I looked down, I groaned. This was the chair wit
h the cracked vinyl that managed to pinch my ass each time I sat. I half-cheeked it, and tottered on the edge.

  “You’re right, we have to talk.” She rearranged the salt and pepper shakers, rotating the salt to the right, and then to the left, and back again.

  “What I said yesterday was wrong, and I feel guilty for being so mean.”

  She patted my hand with her good hand. “It wasn’t one of our finer days, but I learned a bit yesterday, too. I also got a crash course in Sarah Tinsel’s don’t be an ass class.”

  I ribboned my fingers through hers. “Oh yeah, what did that look like?”

  “Mostly it was her mouth moving constantly. All I heard her say was that I’d been an absentee mom, and I’d been drowning myself in sorrow for way too long. It was time to move forward.”

  Without thought, I nodded my head in agreement. It was time to move forward. I was traveling in that direction with Beau, and I prayed Mom would work her way ahead as well.

  “You weren’t a terrible mom. You were just…” There were no nice words for unavailable, or disconnected. So, I went with the adage, if you can’t say something nice…

  “I’m going to work on it, but I need something from you.” Her eyes filled with a look of hope I hadn’t seen in years.

  “Anything, Mom. I’ll do anything.” And I meant it. Whatever it took, I’d do it. “Tell me what you need.”

  Mom stood and walked to the old coffee pot. A wisp of steam rose from the two cups she poured. “The Sweet Shop has been in our family for decades. Daddy and I bought the building from your grandfather when we got married.”

  Preparing for a trip down memory lane, I made myself comfortable by sliding onto the chair. The familiar pinch of the plastic terrorized my tush. Replacing these chairs would be a priority during Mom’s forward momentum. “Why do you think Daddy decided on opening a bakery and candy shop as opposed to a hardware store or a music store? It’s not like he had a background in sweets.” I’d always wondered how we became known for confections.

  “He did it for me. I loved to bake, and the town didn’t have a place where young and old could gather and enjoy each other.” Mom opened the kitchen drawer and pulled out an envelope. It took her two trips to return to the table. When she did, she plopped in her favorite chair. It gave her a panoramic view on the kitchen from the Bing cherry wallpaper to the Chubby Checker records. “He did it for you. He wanted a Sawyer to run it for generations to come.”

  “I bet he’s smiling down from Heaven. You’ve done a good job.”

  Mom held onto the envelope like it was her salvation…or her death sentence—her grip so tight her knuckles turned white. Whatever it contained would change my life, this I knew in my gut.

  “I’ve lost everything in the house except for a few boxes of pictures.” The blood flowed back into her hands the minute she set the envelope in front of me. “And now it’s time for me to step aside and let the next generation take over.”

  I caressed the envelope with shaking fingers, hoping my light touch would soften the blow inside.

  “Mom, whatever it is, we’ll attack it together. Whatever you need, I’ll be here.” I had no idea what the paper I pulled from the envelope was, it wasn’t a deed. It was a diagram of a wrist. Words like sensory neuropathy, irreversible, and chronic jumped from the page. “What does this mean?”

  “It means my wrist will never get better. I’ll never be able to scoop muffins, or stir batter, or pipe icing with my good hand again.” Tears rolled down her face and dripped to the table. “It means I need you to come home for good. I’ll lose the shop without you, and you know I can’t lose the shop.”

  Thank God the crack in the vinyl had gripped my ass, or I might have fallen out of the chair. What the hell was I going to do? My dream of ocean views, and long, loving nights with Beau evaporated.

  “Mom, I can’t.”

  “You have to Mandy. If not for me, do it for Dad. Don’t let his dream die.”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking me to do. What you’re asking me to give up.”

  “I’m asking you to come home so we can be a family again. I’m asking for you to give me a chance to make it all right. I’m asking for an opportunity to be not who I was, but who you wanted me to be. Selfless should have been your middle name.”

  No words came to me. If I stayed, I knew I’d say all the wrong things, so I ran.

  Tommy tried to keep up with me as I dashed from the house. “Mommy, you’re going too fast.” His steps were two to my one. He was the kite, and I was the string pulling him toward the car.

  “I’m sorry.” I slowed to a quick walk. With a glance over my shoulder, I half-expected to see my mother race from the house to stop us, but she didn’t. No, she was still sitting at the table sipping her coffee and timing my return.

  She hadn’t learned that I was good at avoidance. It was a skill that took me years to master. Avoidance was another word for abandonment. The same thing I’d accused her of and here I was, equally guilty. I’d left her years ago when my heart stopped beating. I’d left her alone to survive, knowing full well she wasn’t capable.

  Twenty minutes later, Tommy and I were tucked into the cabin. Tommy went straight for the television while I took a seat at the table. Just this morning, I looked over Beau’s shoulder at the contract that would change his life. My eyes closed, and I pictured the doctor’s report that would change mine.

  “Damn it.” Flat-palmed, I pounded the table.

  “You okay, Mommy?” Tommy pulled his eyes from the cartoon to look at me.

  “Yes, sweetie. I’m good.” Lies were never my thing, but what purpose would it serve to tell my little boy that in the next few hours, I’d make a decision that would forever change our lives.

  Chapter 22

  Beau

  Today was a day to celebrate. I signed a three-record deal with Rocco Piat that would change the lives of many people, but each time I called Mandy, her phone went straight to voicemail and my excitement lessened when I couldn’t share it with my love.

  When I talked to my mom, she said she hadn’t talked to Annie or Mandy all day. They must be finished exorcising the house by now. It was eight o’clock and I was still at the airport, trying to get a flight.

  On a last ditch effort, I dialed Mandy again.

  “Hello.” Her shrunken voice was a whisper.

  “Mandy, I was worried.”

  “I’m good.” Short and succinct weren’t her style. Something was wrong.

  “You’re not good.”

  A long pause. “You’re right.” Her voice trembled, and I waited, but she didn’t elaborate.

  When had this wall gone up between us? And how was I going to get past it? “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “What in the hell is happening?” The air around me was heavy and thick with dread. I could sense her slipping away, that wall growing higher and thicker with every second. “I’m stuck here tonight, but I’m catching the first plane out tomorrow.”

  “No. You need to stay in Los Angeles. You need to stay away from me.” Her words were flat and fast. Firm.

  “No, baby. You and Tommy are coming to Los Angeles so we can be a family.” My lungs withered, my heart curled in like a fist. "Mandy, let me—"

  “I get to choose, not you, and I don’t choose you.” A half a sob, then she hung up. All that remained was silence.

  After a dozen calls, I gave up and called the airline on a last ditch effort. There were no charter flights available and no earlier flights before my scheduled afternoon flight tomorrow. Everyone seemed to be traveling for the holiday. Feeling defeated, I called Mom.

  “Hey, sweetie. It’s late.” Her noisy television muted. “Everything okay?”

  “No. Something is wrong. What in the hell is going on there?” I’d never considered what desperation sounded like, but it felt horrific. Mandy had reached down my throat and yanked my heart out one blood vessel at a time.
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  “I don’t know, Mandy ran from the house this afternoon. I guess her mom told her the news.”

  “What news?”

  “Annie’s injury is permanent.”

  “Are you sure?” That was terrible news, but it wasn’t a reason to throw what we had away. “What does that mean?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. She talked to several specialists. She has little to no feeling in her hand which means she can’t work. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but it wasn’t my story to tell.” I couldn’t fault my mom, she’d never told Mandy why I let her go years ago. It wasn’t her place. Mom excelled at confidentiality.

  “Mandy broke up with me, Mom?”

  “She what?” Mom inhaled and exhaled several times.

  “She told me I wasn’t her choice.”

  “Oh, Beau, she’s not being honest with herself. When it comes to you, she has no other choice.”

  “She made some other choice today. One that didn’t include me.”

  “Did you sign that contract that would keep you in Los Angeles for the next three years?” There was something telling about Mom’s tone. It was a crumb, maybe a missing piece to a puzzle.

  “Yes, I’ve never seen anything like it. What an amazing experience. The contract was so detailed, it took hours to go over. It’s why I missed my plane tonight. Now I’m back home, hoping the travel agent can find me a flight. I need to get back to Mandy and figure this out.”

  “Honey, Mandy let you go because she loves you. She’s staying in Bell Mountain to take over the Sweet Shop.”

  An Einstein I wasn’t, but I got my answer. She was making a choice for me. She was repeating the mistake I’d made years ago. Relocating to Los Angeles would take her a thousand miles from her mother. Not far enough in normal circumstances, but these weren’t normal times. Mandy’s mom had lost twice this week—bad news about her wrist and a devastating flood. Mandy was honoring her family by giving me up.

  I brewed a cup of coffee and stared at the ocean from my living room window. The contract I’d signed today had sealed our future. Unless I was willing to bankrupt everyone in the band, I would lose Mandy. Choices were a funny thing. They were given and taken away without impunity.