His Texas Christmas Bride

He’d volunteered to work tomorrow night, but somehow, despite a good number of the hospital’s staff attending the wedding, they’d scheduled him off for the night. Becca was in the wedding, so he would’ve been just as happy working and giving someone else a chance to go, but Jake and Anna wouldn’t hear of it. Nick had begun to feel like a miscreant protesting to the contrary.

He followed Becca into the living room. The dog padded along behind him.

The Christmas tree they’d purchased last night was sitting in a stand in the corner. Becca kicked off her high heels. She looked gorgeous in her black cocktail dress. Nick especially enjoyed the view of her curvy little backside when she bent down and plugged something into the wall.

The tree lit up. Nick blinked in surprise, taking it all in. It didn’t have any ornaments, but it shone bright with tiny colorful lights.

“Did you put the tree in the stand?” he asked.

“Not all by myself. Kate helped me. You should’ve seen the two of us. We were like Laverne and Shirley. I’m surprised we didn’t end up putting the trunk through the window. But we eventually got it upright and into the stand.”

He frowned. “Should you be lifting things like that, even with somebody else’s help? You should’ve called me.”

“Nick, I’m pregnant, not an invalid. I’m fine. The babies are fine. Thank you for being concerned. And just so you don’t feel as if you’re missing out, I bought some ornaments we can hang on the tree together.”

She held up a red sphere that was decorated with a delicate gold pattern. “I got these for us today. I was hoping you’d want to help me decorate the tree. That’s why I went ahead and put the lights on. Because you have to do that first before you can put on any of the other decorations.”

“I think you need to slow down a little, Becca. Don’t wear yourself out.”

“I’m fine. I promise I’m listening to my body.”

It had been a long time since he’d bothered with a tree. When he was married to Delilah, they’d spent two Christmases together. She’d badgered him until they’d gotten a tree. He didn’t blame her for wanting one. Most people observed that tradition. Hell, most people celebrated traditions.

He glanced at his watch. It was nearly ten o’clock. “I’d love to, but could we wait until next week? There’s been so much going on, and we still have the wedding tomorrow.”

Disappointment flashed in Becca’s eyes, but she recovered quickly, smiling at him. “Of course. We’ve had a lot going on this week. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

Now he was beginning to feel like the Grinch.

“How about if we hang a few tonight and the rest next week? Is that a fair compromise?” he asked.

Her face lit up. “I think it’s the perfect compromise.”

She planted a whisper-soft kiss on his lips and handed him the ornament.

“Hang it anywhere on the tree you’d like.”

She turned on some Christmas music.

Christmas music? It’s not even December yet.

He contemplated teasing her about it, but she disappeared into the kitchen before he could.

Instead, he turned to find a place on the tree for the ornament.

Out of nowhere, a memory swam from the murky recesses of his subconscious. He remembered how his mother waited patiently until the day after Thanksgiving to play holiday tunes. But only because she and his father had come to that agreement. If his dad had had it his way, there would never have been any Christmas music until the week before the holiday. On the flip side of that coin, his mother would’ve started torturing them with “Frosty the Snowman” and his ilk as soon as the first chill cooled the air.

In a sense, it was their own compromise. Nick hadn’t thought about it in years. It was a happy time, before they’d stopped working together and everything had gone so terribly wrong.

Becca returned a moment later with a bottle of wine and one glass and a mug of something in her other hand.

“You know, it’s an honor to get to hang the first ornament,” she said as she poured the wine. “So consider yourself honored.”

She handed him the glass of wine.

“Mark, Rosanna and I used to fight over who got to hang this Santa ornament that had been in our family for as far back as I can remember. My mom used to keep track of whose year it was to hang it. One year she swore it was Mark’s turn, but Rosanna kept insisting that Mark had hung it the year before and it was her turn. She tried to grab it away from Mark and ended up knocking it out of his hand. It smashed into tiny pieces, and that was the end of Santa. Isabel made Rosanna clean up the pieces and then sit on the couch. She didn’t get to help decorate the tree that year.”