A SEAL for Christmas (All I want for Christmas is... 2)

Cheeks prickling with heat, she turned away and grabbed far more gold and silver garlands that they could ever possibly need and shoved them into Murphy’s unresisting arms. Quickly, she also grabbed four boxes of white twinkle lights, two more sets of glass ornaments, and a pretty mirrored and glittered star for a tree topper. They made their way back to the front of the store and through the checkout line, all while an awkward silence descended between them.

Yep. He’d been thinking about sex too. She’d bet money on it.

The thought that he wanted her as much as she wanted him both thrilled and terrified her. Murphy was hot and smart and funny. Under different circumstances, she would’ve totally gone for him. But he was also her ex’s best friend, and under a lot of added stress from his sister’s disappearance. Tough times made people say and do things they wouldn’t normally. Add in the holiday madness and there was no way she could be sure Murphy’s desire was anything more than a lusty diversion from his real-life woes. Chances were good he’d drop her like a hot potato once she slept with him and the last thing Shayma wanted was to have her heart broken again.

Okay. She handed the cashier her platinum card then waited while the transaction went through. Truthfully, she hadn’t been heartbroken over Daveed ending their engagement. That’s what happened when your parents hooked you to a guy at the tender age of six. But still. It had been an upheaval in her life and she didn’t need any more messes to clean.

And given the way her blood rushed and her breath hitched and molten heat flooded her core each time she imagined Murphy naked and wrapped around her in bed, any affair they’d have together would definitely leave her with a mess to clean up. At least on her side of things. If she’d felt even half of what thrummed through her whenever she thought of Murphy Coen for Daveed, she might’ve fought to keep him. As it was, Daveed had moved firmly into the friend zone and Murphy? Well, Murphy was quickly becoming something else entirely. Which is what scared her the most. On impulse, because buying things always made her feel better, she snagged a garish red sweatshirt from a nearby rack with a huge picture of Saint Nick on the front and added it to her pile of purchases.

“Thank you for shopping at the North Pole Emporium. Have a Merry Christmas,” the clerk said, handing Shayma back her card and several large handled shopping bags full of their decorations. Murphy took four of them which left Shayma with only two, plus her handbag. He was always polite and considerate that way, despite his churlish attitude. It was just one more thing she liked about him. His courage and loyalty and snarky sense of humor were up there too.

They headed back out onto the sidewalk and down the block to a small vendor selling fresh cut trees on the corner. Together, they picked up a small, plump Douglas Fir and this time Murphy paid for it. He even smiled at the guy who sold it to them, which both shocked and dazzled Shayma. Perhaps a bit of holiday cheer was working its magic on him after all.

Loaded down with bags and the tree, they walked the last block to Aileen’s apartment and took the elevator up to the fifth floor. Murphy handed Shayma the key and she let them inside.

“Thanks for all this,” she said as she slipped off her coat.

“Yep.” He leaned the tree in the corner of the apartment where she’d indicated, a small open space across from the bedroom area, then brushed the stray pine needles and sap from the front of his insulated plaid work shirt. “You hungry?”

She hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning and her stomach grumbled. “Guess I am.”

“Good.” He took off his knit hat and set about cutting the ropes off the tree with a pocket knife. “Let’s get this damned tree done so we can go eat.”

So much for thinking he’d gotten into the spirit of Christmas.

While Shayma began opening and laying out their purchases from the store, Murphy dug through the closet near the bathroom and found not only an old tree stand, but also a box of Aileen’s ornaments. He brought both out into the living room and set them on the floor.

“Man, I haven’t seen some of these since I was a kid.” He pulled a toy wooden soldier ornament from the box. “I remember the year I carved this in class. Seventh grade, I think.”

“Aw, it’s adorable.” Shayma knelt beside him and reached into the box to find a photo of a young Murphy and his sister, huge grins on their faces and big presents on the floor in front of them. The photo had been mounted on wood and a hook strung through the top. “Look at you.” She held it up for Murphy to see. “You couldn’t have been more than nine or ten. So cute.”

He chuckled. “That was the year my dad nearly burnt down the house trying to make us a turkey. Didn’t go well. In fact, those smiles were about the last ones any of us had that day. We ended up at some Chinese place and had duck for dinner.”

“Nice.” She pulled out the rest of the stuff from the box while Murphy got the tree set up in the stand and watered. Then they set about stringing the lights, which was usually a minor disaster in the making. But with Murphy it was fun. A couple of times they ended up nearly running into each other as they worked their way around the tree in opposite directions, meeting face-to-face in the back near the windows. The tree couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, but with the snow gently falling outside and the old memories scattered around them it felt like a winter wonderland to her.

“Pardon me,” he said, ducking around her and breaking the spell.

“Sure,” she said, watching him walk around the tree again, a string of lights in his hand. Her throat felt tight with

emotion and she wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be okay, even if it wouldn’t. Shayma finished stringing her lights, then continued on with the garland and ornaments. There was some left over and she directed Murphy on where to hang the boughs in the apartment. There was even a sprig of mistletoe in one of the bags, though she didn’t remember buying any. She hung that up over the space between the living room and the bedroom, just in case. By the time they were done, two hours had passed and she felt ravenous with hunger. They flopped down on the sofa and stared at the blank TV.

“Where should we go for dinner?” she asked. The clock on the wall in the kitchen said it was a bit after five. “Places will get crowded soon.”

“I was thinking of just grabbing a bite down by the pond in Bryant Park. The food vendors there are phenomenal and if we go now, there’s no lines.”

“Sounds great to me.”

They got ready and headed back downstairs, Shayma tired but happy and Murphy looking a bit less haggard than he had before. Maybe her plan to lighten his mood had worked after all. The light snow had cast everything in a veil of white and as they made their way to Bryant Park, Murphy pointed out different vendors or street performers with funny costumes. Shayma’s loneliness lifted for the first time since she’d come to New York. Yes, she’d made friends with Mel and there was always Daveed, but being with Murphy felt different.

Being with Murphy felt like home.

The area where the food trucks were located turned out to be a picturesque little spot that reminded her of some of the riverside areas in Paris. Same wrought iron benches, same French feeling to them. They got their food—shawarma for her, burger and fries for him—then walked over to a quaint little filigreed bench to eat. Kids were playing in the snow and people were strolling around. The bitter wind from earlier had died down now, leaving the whole space feeling like a Currier and Ives greeting card scene.

“How’s your food?” he asked around a bite of burger.

“Excellent. You were right. These people know their way around cuisine.” She took a bite of her spicy grilled lamb and veggies stuffed in pita bread. The cool cucumber sauce was the perfect foil to the zing on her tongue and brought back a much-needed taste of home. “Though my mom’s chicken recipe is still my favorite.”

“Look over there.” Murphy pointed to a spot where a crowd had gathered. Twilight was falling and in a flash the area lit up with twinkle lights and a Victorian carousel came to life. “That’s pretty cool.”