Page 27 of Everything Christmas

Chapter Eight

Struggling to stayawake, Merry drove with the window down, the cool December air blowing in her face and the radio blaring. “Only 15 more days then you can sleep,” she reminded herself as she signaled to turn onto her street for home.

She sighed, remembering the big sale she had planned December 26th to lure in the after-Christmas bargain hunters. Wanting only to crawl into bed and pass out, it turned into a groan seeing the line of trucks and SUVs lining the street.

Reese was having friends over to watch football and was expecting her to come by to meet everyone. After his week of night shifts, when they had squeezed in time together when they could, he returned to his usual schedule, which put him home by six every evening. But during her extended holiday hours, she didn’t drag her tired butt in for another four hours. She had a manager who closed several nights a week, but she was on maternity leave and her backup was inexperienced. Leaving a rookie there during the holiday rush didn’t feel right.

Each night followed a predictable pattern. Reese came over when she got home. He made sure she ate, usually some of whatever he had for dinner. She had no complaints; he was an excellent cook. Then they would talk, watch TV, or just cuddle on the couch before Merry inevitably fell asleep. He’d carried her to bed several times without her knowing until she woke the next morning alone in her bed.

“Boy, did he get a winner with me,” she muttered as she pulled into her driveway.

He said he wanted to take things slow, but she was certain he hadn’t foreseen that they would reach the two-week mark without sleeping together. It was bad timing, nothing more, but she worried he’d get impatient.

Other than expressing his concern about being overextended and wearing herself thin, he seemed unfazed. In fact, he was the one who always put an end to things if they were getting too heated on the couch. That triggered a whirlwind of doubts and a resurgence of her lifelong self-esteem issues. Didn’t he want to have sex with her?

“Don’t go borrowing trouble,” she told herself, echoing one of her dad’s often-used idioms as she pressed her garage remote. When nothing happened, she tried again. And again. Still nothing.

Huffing in irritation, she put her car in gear and engaged the emergency brake. Topped up with brake fluid and checked out by Reese’s garage-owner buddy, her new-to-her Camry didn’t budge on the incline as she got out. Merry slogged tiredly for the keypad and punched in her code. It didn’t open the door, either. She tried three more times with the same failed result.

“This is all I need, another bill to add to the stack piling up on my desk.” Pulling on the handle, she tried to open it manually, but it still wouldn’t budge.

Hands fisted and propped on her hips, she glanced across the street to Reese’s place. She hated to bother him with this, but she wasn’t supposed to leave her car out overnight. Yet another stupid condo association rule. Weighing the risk of another fine and the uncertainty that her president boyfriend would not cut her any slack, she set off in his direction.

Not comfortable just walking in, she knocked. Her hand was still raised when the door swung inward revealing a man—tall, blond, extremely good-looking, wearing a Titan’s jersey with a beer in his hand. He smiled, perusing her body slowly up and down, clearly taking inventory,

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at his rude behavior, but that only made his grin broader.

“I’m looking for Reese. I’m his neighbor, Merry.”

“Dang, how come none of my neighbors look like you?”

“I don’t know, because prisons and jails aren’t unisex, maybe?”

He barked with laughter then turned and strode down the hallway, leaving her standing in the open doorway. “Hey, Sarge,” she heard him bellow. “There’s a hot little redhead with a sassy mouth at the door. Says she’s your neighbor.”

A second later, Reese appeared at the end of the hall. “What are you doing standing on the porch? Come on in and I’ll introduce you around.”

“There’s something wrong with my garage door. Could you check it out first?”

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