The Kidnapped Christmas Bride
She didn’t want him to die young. She wanted him to play it safer. She wanted him to look at her more. She loved seeing how his hard, handsome features transformed when he saw her…lips curving, blue eyes creasing.
He might not enjoy school, but he was smart, and tough, and he made her feel safe.
He made her feel pretty, too.
And he might never ask her out, but she was his. They both knew it.
“What?” he asked, shooting her a quick glance, black eyebrows lifting.
“Nothing,” she answered, amazed that seventeen years later she still felt so connected to him.
“You’re smiling.”
“You’re humming,” she said. “Christmas carols.”
“I like Christmas carols.”
“You’re humming the sacred ones.”
“I can’t like songs with a little substance?”
His innocent expression, and his blue eyes, suddenly so guileless, made her laugh out loud. “I know you. I know who you are.”
“And who am I, darlin’?”
She looked up into his eyes, and he let her look, inviting her in, and she could have stood there all day, feeling close to him, feeling connected.
Heart, mind, soul.
And then someone tried to get past and accidentally bumped into McKenna and McKenna tripped a bit over TJ and the spell was broken.
The old gentleman who bumped into her apologized and McKenna said no, it was her fault, and blushing, she felt like a fool.
She wasn’t being smart.
She wasn’t being careful.
Trey Sheenan might be gorgeous and charismatic but he wasn’t good for her. He wasn’t settled or stable. She couldn’t let him back in, couldn’t drop her defenses.
They could be friends. And friendly. But that was all.
No romance, no love, no sex, no happy ever after.
No happy ever after. It didn’t exist. Not with him.
*
After clothes shopping they stopped for lunch at one of the little cafes on Main Street. Trey asked TJ what he wanted for Christmas, and once TJ started in, he didn’t stop. He hadn’t seen Santa yet, and he hadn’t sent him a letter but usually if he left him a note at Christmas Santa brought him what he wanted, although last year he wanted holsters and pistols and Santa didn’t bring those. Santa never brought guns. Or any fighting things. TJ was disappointed that Santa wouldn’t bring him fighting things when everyone else got them. Didn’t Santa know he was a boy, not a girl?
McKenna could feel Trey’s eyes on her now and then while TJ talked.
She told herself she didn’t want to know what he was thinking. She told herself she was happy to keep distance between them. Distance was good. Distance was smart.
After lunch they stopped at the local grocery store and Trey thrust a wad of bills in her hand and told her to go get whatever she wanted while he and TJ went to the hardware store next door and picked up a few things for the cabin.
McKenna didn’t want to be in the grocery store while Trey and TJ shopped at the hardware store. She liked being with them. She liked their energy and the way they talked and teased. It was boisterous and brash and fun. She’d forgotten how much fun Trey had always been. Trey had so much energy and good humor. He liked to laugh. He’d always loved to make her laugh, and now his focus was on TJ and TJ was eating it up.
It would be silly to be jealous of TJ. He was Trey’s son. He deserved Trey’s undivided attention. But she knew what it felt like to be the focus of Trey’s attention. She knew how special she used to feel…
Cart full, she waited in line to check out and then pushed the cart outside, heading for Trey’s truck.
Trey and TJ were already in the truck waiting for her, and Trey stepped out and immediately began loading up the back with the groceries.
“What did you buy?” she asked him, glancing at the dozen paper bags with the hardware logo on the front.
“Tools, nails, screws, light bulbs, wood glue, extension cords. How about you?”
“Steaks, potatoes, vegetables, peanut butter, flour, sugar, salt.”
“Chocolate chips?” he asked hopefully. “Gingerbread mix?”
“You got a little sweet tooth, Sheenan?”
“Not usually, Mac. But for some reason when you’re around, I do.”
He’d said it quietly, casually, but the words wrapped around her heart and stole her breath.
It wasn’t fair how much she’d missed this—him—these past few years. She’d missed the banter and the teasing and his sexy laugh and the way he used to kiss her so slow, kiss her until she was dizzy and mindless and so perfectly content, wanting nothing more than to share a life with him.
“I think that’s it,” she said breathlessly, placing the last bag in the back and straightening. “I’ll just take the cart back—”
“I’ve got it. You get in with TJ.”
“I can do it—”
“I’ve got it, Mac. Please get in. Get warm. Be safe.”
*
Be safe.
Be safe.
The words played in her head during the ten minute drive from town to Cray Road and up the winding private road to the cabin.
Be safe, she heard as she unpacked the groceries.
Be safe, she heard as TJ and Trey disappeared up into the attic, with TJ giggling and whispering and Trey hushing him saying, Sssh. You don’t want to ruin the surprise.
She couldn’t figure out why those words were bothering her so much. Why should she mind him saying be safe? Why should that be a bad thing?
And then it hit her—he was the one who needed to be safe.
He was the one who took the chances.
He was the one who’d left her and TJ alone for four years because he was the one who wasn’t safe.
If she wanted to be safe, then she needed Lawrence, or someone like Lawrence, in her life. She needed someone who sold insurance and didn’t take risks. Someone who insisted on slow and safe. Someone who preferred predictable. Someone who avoided extremes and change and adrenalin and danger.
But when all was said and done, she hadn’t really wanted Lawrence, or someone like Lawrence.
How was she to ever fall in love with anyone else when Trey still possessed her heart?
*
While McKenna baked an easy pumpkin bread and made chewy molasses cookies, Trey and TJ worked outside putting something together. She heard hammering and sawing and the scrape of metal. She wondered if it was an old sled they’d found, but she didn’t know what they’d do with a sled since there was no snow on the ground, and she would have gone outside to see what they were working on but she’d been given strict instructions to stay inside and be surprised.
And so she was baking, waiting to be surprised, and smiling whenever she heard TJ’s high bright peal of laughter. He was so happy today. He was in his element helping Trey drag boxes from the attic, carrying paper bags of stuff from the truck, tramping in and out getting cups of hot cocoa for ‘the men’, making noise, creating chaos. Having fun.
Finally, the front door banged open again and TJ shouted for her to close her eyes and not peek.
“I’m making cookies,” she shouted back. “I have to peek.”
“Just keep your eyes closed two minutes,” Trey answered.
And so she squeezed her eyes shut and propped her chin in her hands and waited. She knew what it was by the smell, even without the sound of branches brushing and scraping the front door.
A tree. They were bringing in a Christmas tree.
“Are you looking?” TJ asked.
“No.” But her lips curved and she was smiling, happy for TJ. This was a special Christmas. This was exactly the kind of Christmas he needed.
Muffled voices and whispers and an ouch came from the main room.
“Okay,” TJ said after a moment of some huffing and puffing. “Open your eyes!”
She opened her eyes and a tall douglas fir filled one corner of the living ro
om. This was not a fat, full perfectly shaped tree from a Christmas tree farm, but an eight foot tree that had been cut from the Cray land, that had character along with gaps between some of the branches.
“What do you think, Mom?” TJ asked, beaming. “Pretty nice, huh?”
She nodded and smiled back. “One of the nicest trees I’ve ever seen.”
The boxes TJ and Trey had brought down from the attic contained old strings of lights and dozens of vintage glass ornaments.
While the pumpkin bread cooled and the molasses cookies baked, McKenna helped Trey and TJ put lights on the tree—not the old ones from the attic, but the box of new lights Trey had bought today from the hardware store—and then used the new ornament hooks to hang the beautiful vintage ornaments on the tree, the tarnished glass balls a mix of silver, white, and gold, as well as some that were a soft rose and aqua blue. They glittered, sparkled and shone on the green branches of the fresh douglas fir.
After they were done, Trey turned off the living room lamps to admire their handiwork. Outside it was dusk and the lavender shadows pressed against the windows. Inside the fire burned and glowed and the tree gleamed with balls of color and the strings of white miniature lights.