Page 122 of Run, Run Rudolph
“Even more than what you want?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You heard me say that to your brother.” There was a wonderment in her voice, and I nodded, her statement ringing true, even though I couldn’t remember when we might have said such things.
“You heard me?” she repeated. “And you remember?”
“Tamara, when you’re talking, I’m always listening.” It was the truth. The tender, honest truth.
Before I could follow my instinct to draw her close and cup her jaw, she suddenly spun on the heel of her clunky winter boots, racing back outside.
I followed, unsure if I should apologize.
She placed a knee on the driver’s seat, reaching into her mom’s car.
“What happened to Benjamin?” I called, referring to her Sebring.
“I hit a reindeer with it last night.” She climbed back out of the car, returning with a sprig of mistletoe that I swear had been hanging from her rearview mirror at some point. Now it was in her mom’s car. Everything felt slightly out of place today.
“Wait. Did you say reindeer?” I asked, as she hurried to the clinic. “This isn’t their usual range. Did you report it? They’re a species at risk.”
“Rangifer tarandus,” she confirmed, delighting my nerdy veterinarian heart. “Woodland caribou. He’s okay.” She lifted the mistletoe above her head. “Also, I feel bad that I didn’t get you a Christmas gift, too, so I thought I’d say thanks…” Her voice faltered.
My eyes slowly moved to the sprig of green above us. I repeated her words over and over in my brain. Thoughts that felt like memories came tumbling through my mind. Reindeer. Kisses in the hay.
Tamara. Tamara in my arms. Tamara laughing. Tamara kissing me.
Her cheeks started to flush, and I could tell she was about to leave, embarrassed.
Instinctively, I grabbed her around the waist and drew her tight to my chest, kissing her long and slow, the feeling both familiar and new. But also, so very right.
My lips were bruised, my heart happy, and my brain confused by a flood of impossible memories. I pressed Tamara against the clinic door and kissed her again.
Memories were everywhere in this room.
X-raying Rudolph. Trying to offer Tamara my leftover Christmas baking from a client, and Rudolph eating them all. The herd out in the alley. I chuckled, a memory of Tamara driving Rudolph around in her convertible in last night’s blizzard.
She was amazing.
And we’d kissed.
I’d felt things.
I pulled her back for another kiss, confirming to myself that she was real, and so was this.
I’d secretly thought about this moment for a long time.
“Haden?”
“Shh. Kiss me again,” I growled, pulling her tight to me. I needed about a million more of these moments with her.
Finally, breathing hard, we pulled apart. My nerve endings were singing. How had we gotten here, her and I? How had we gone from avoiding each other, to kissing like we were made for each other?
And what were all these crazy images in my head?
“I had the wildest dreams last night,” I said, leaning my forehead against hers, hoping she’d help me sort out the impossible insanity I was facing. We’d lost the mistletoe, and I planned to find it later and keep it so I could reinvent this moment over and over.
My hands had wound their way through the hair framing her face, and I was holding her like a lover would. I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to be her everything. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to leave this moment in time, even though I didn’t understand it.
