Page 51 of Mistletoe Misses
“Hi,” Carmen says as I lower to the curb. She shifts under the blanket to face me, her elbow on her knee to prop her head up with a soft fist, knocking me speechless with her smile once again.
She’s stunning tonight. Golden waves flow freely down her back and over one shoulder under the knitted hat. What little skin I can see glows under the soft lamplight. I imagine the rest of her doing the same in the moonlight while lying bare on my bed…
“Hi,” I respond, swallowing down the image before it consumes me. “How was the bazaar?”
“Great. We ate way too many fried treats.” She winces and presses a gloved hand to her stomach. “But we chose a Christmas tree. It’s getting delivered tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a good time.”
“Sadie can’t wait to decorate it.”
“I bet. It was one of my favorite holiday activities.”
“Do you have space for a tree at your house in Boston?”
“No,” I chuckle. “My studio apartment barely fits a bed and a recliner. I haven’t had a tree since I lived here.”
At the time, I didn’t want reminders of what I missed out on here. But I should have come home just for the holidays to enjoy the family traditions I looked forward to every year as a kid. The boundless love of my family and the magic of Christmas might have brightened some of my darkest days.
I noticed Mom hasn’t put up our tree at the house yet. I wonder if she’s waiting on Kendall and Aaron so we can decorate it together as a family. Damn, I hope so. I sure could use a dose of reliving some of my most treasured childhood memories.
“It’s not the same without the Henderson sibling antics,” I add, thinking back to those days with a grin.
Her head tilts to the others behind us, bringing my attention back to her. “Speaking of your siblings, it’s good to see Cooper home safe. Your parents must be so excited to have everyone together for the holidays.”
“They are. I’m glad we could give them that.”
“Can I ask why you picked now to come back?”
With a shrug, I shove my chilly hands into my coat pockets and glance down the street at the gathering crowd. The parade will be starting soon, giving us something to talk about other than my pathetic story.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” I say. “I had extended time off from work and nothing healthy to fill it with.” Just the usual—beer and all-consuming misery.
“What do you mean?”
“I was put on admin leave.”
“Why? Did something happen?”
“I took a life.”
She pauses her questioning to survey me. There’s no pity or alarm in her eyes. “But who did you save?”
“What?”
Holding my gaze, she waits until she’s sure I’m listening. “I know you, Maddox. We all change over time, but only so much. I know you wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t have a good reason.”
How could she see that buried side of me? The side I show no one, not even myself. “The suspect turned the gun on a child.”
“No.”
My nod confirms what she’s thinking, and she touches my knee to offer her support. The placement—on my leg, instead of a safer location—and the fact that she hasn’t moved it after making the gesture, sends another silent message. And it’s not something friends say.
“The time off is just protocol, right?” she asks. “You’re not in trouble.”
“I don’t expect any charges, but the investigation is ongoing.”
The first float rolls by, kicking off the annual holiday parade, but she doesn’t seem to care. “Why didn’t you stay in Boston?”
