Page 9 of Can't Miss Christmas

“Me?” she said. “My airbag went off, remember?” She took a breath. This time, she was going to be honest. “The worst part was being afraid you—I was afraid something happened to you.” She couldn’t bring herself to saydied.

Strong fingers wrapped around hers, squeezing firmly. A burst of warmth torched through her despite the bitter cold.

“Thank you, Grace. For worrying about me.”

She nodded, pretending to straighten her coat, anything to look somewhere else besides into his warm, sincere eyes that were making her feel very strange inside.

He spoke again, sounding a little resolved, a little amused. “Guess we’re going to be spending some time in—what’s this place called again? Mirror Lake?”

She had no idea what Mirror Lake, Population 1000, was like. But she had a feeling they were probably going to find out. Graham was in no condition to go anywhere, plus the entire front end of the car looked like it had been run through a giant trash compactor.

She flicked her gaze back at him and smiled. “All right, then. Mirror Lake it is.”

* * *

It was after midnight when Graham and Grace walked into the lobby of the Grand Victorian hotel. Graham could hardly believe the final twist of events of this weird day that had led them straight from the CT scan at the Community Hospital to a room at Mirror Lake’s best (and only) hotel.

Of course the ER doctor, Ben Rushford, who was around their age, was the cop’s brother. “Your head scan is normal,” the very tall, bearded doc had said. “You’re good to go. Actually, my wife and I are happy to put you up at our place for the next night or two. We’ve got plenty of room. Five bedrooms, and with the kids, we only use four of them. Except I hope you don’t mind dogs, because I can’t promise one of them won’t accidentally wander in.”

Grace had been quick to thank him for his kindness, but she’d already gotten them a room at the hotel down the street.

Graham didn’t protest, because such small-town hospitality, while genuinely kind, made him a little uncomfortable. He also hopeda roomwas actually two, and that Grace was just playing along about the couple thing because it was easier.

So now they were standing inside a beautiful high-ceilinged lobby flanked on one side by a giant Christmas tree covered with the big old-fashioned kind of colored lights. He made out the festive scents of pine and maybe vanilla and cinnamon—except the tree and the pine smell were real.

Grace insisted on dragging her rolling suitcase and his duffel bag through the lobby, because the doctor said he shouldn’t lift things due to his concussion. Nevertheless, he attempted to take the duffel from her. “Please,” he said. “You’re emasculating me.”

She rolled her eyes and tugged it back. “You heard what the doctor said.”

Yeah. “Dr. Ben” had also said no reading, driving, TV, or sex for the next few days. Which meant they had to find some other way besides a car to get Grace to Philly. And as far as the no-sex rule…well, that was a good thing. Just in case he happened to be tempted. Which he had been—in the car, the hospital, and, come to think of it, right now, despite the throbbing in his head, twelve stitches, and the fact that he was exhausted.

He looked around at the looped garlands and the massive wreath hung over a big carved fireplace with a burning, crackling fire. “Nice place,” he said.

Grace turned to him and smiled. “Are you angry I did this? I know it’s a little high-end, but I felt a little uncomfortable accepting the invitation to the doctor’s house.”

“Yeah, I did too. And I don’t care how much the rooms cost.”

“One room. I have to wake you up for neuro checks every two hours, remember?”

“Grace, that’s really not nec—”

“The last I knew, you weren’t an MD, so since we survived our near-death experience, I’d rather just play by the rules, okay?”

He knew by the familiar set of her chin and the way she narrowed her eyes that she was digging in for the long haul. Fine. He was too tired to fight her on this one.

At the desk, a man in an immaculate suit with a close-cut beard introduced himself as the manager, Hector, and gave the usual spiel. “Caroling’s tomorrow evening, if you’re feeling up to it. Everyone meets at the Irish pub around the corner at six. Folks start out at the senior center, hit the hospital, circle around to downtown, and end up at the square.”

“Sounds lovely,” Grace said. “Nice to meet you, Hector.”

They’d be gone long before caroling, which ordinarily would give Graham a sense of relief, since he couldn’t carry a tune if his life were on the line. But the fact that their time together would be coming to a fast end threw him a little. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and they both had places to be.

As soon as they walked through the doorway of their room, Grace released a big breath and pulled off her boots. Graham placed the key on a tray on the antique chest near the door and shrugged off his coat.

His eyes were drawn instantly to the big bed. A four-poster with spiral carvings up and down the heavy, dark wood posts and a velvet canopy overhead.

“You take the bed,” Grace said. “I’ll take the couch.”

“The bed is huge. Surely we can be civilized and each take a side. May as well sleep in a comfortable bed if you insist on waking me up every two hours.”

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