Page 28 of A Very Barrie Christmas
Without thinking, he closed his hand over hers, lacing their fingers together. Their palms met, pressing the cool ceramic between them. With his free hand, he cupped her cheek, drawing her lips toward his. He paused with their mouths mere inches apart.
“If we do this,” he murmured, his voice thick and raspy as he wrestled for restraint, “it means something. I can’t walk away from this, fromyou. I can’t kiss you and pretend it never happened. I’m all in, Jules. I’ll do whatever it takes to be what you need, to make this work. I—”
“Nate,” she whispered, her breath feather soft and sweet. “Kiss me.”
Eager to obey orders, he lowered his mouth to hers, gently at first, taking his time. But the more he lingered, savoring each second, the deeper his desire ran. With other women, there was always a discovery period, time to learn each other’s rhythm. But with Juliet, the kiss came as naturally as breathing, fluid and passionate, like a poem that transcended the page.
It took all his self-control to reel himself back, but he wanted more than the physical with Juliet. He wanted all of her, to trulyknowher—the inner workings of her thoughts, beliefs, and secret longings. He craved the kind of connection carved in the quiet moments, from listening to every word, spoken and unspoken.
They spent the rest of the evening finishing the mince pie—which came out better when they made it together—sharing typical first-date anecdotes like favorite movies and hobbies, then delving into deeper territory like their childhood, faith, and their hopes and fears.
He shared things with Juliet he’d never told anyone before, not even Susan or his therapist at the VA. He even divulged thereal reason he felt so drawn to Christmas, laying his entire heart on the table, open and bare. To his surprise and delight, she reciprocated with equal vulnerability. By the time he walked her to her room and kissed her good night, he knew with absolute certainty that he’d found a woman worthy of every poem ever written. A woman worth fighting for with every fiber of his being.
And from that moment on, nothing would ever be the same.
CHAPTER 19
JULIET
Juliet leaned against the door frame, her fingertips pressed against her lips. They still tingled from Nate’s good-night kiss. In all her life, no man had ever kissed her like that. She tried to put the intensity of the experience into words, but not evenutterly transcendentcould do his kiss justice.
There was something special about Nate. He had this extraordinary way of looking at life, of turning a painful past into something positive—something powerful. He had an outlook—and a story—that should be shared.
At the thought, her gaze fell to her laptop occupying the small desk by the window, exactly where she’d left it earlier that evening. The smooth metallic case glowed in the golden light of the antique floor lamp.
Driven by an impulse she couldn’t explain, she sat at the desk. The quiet whisper of wind swirled silver snowflakes past the frosted window, but she barely noticed, lost in a world of words inside her head as scenes and characters magically came into being.
She opened her laptop, and the screen blinked to life. Positioning her fingertips over the black backlit keys, shegathered a breath, then let the words flow freely, without judgment or overthinking.
Callie Holloway hated Christmas.
Candy canes made her cringe.
Santa Claus made her shudder.
And mistletoe… don’t even get her started on mistletoe.
Didn’t anyone see the irony in making a poisonous plant the official mascot of holiday romance? They might as well force couples to kiss under a sign that read,Your romantic dalliance is doomed to fail.
Juliet chuckled as the playful prose effortlessly appeared on the page. Why didn’t anyone tell her writing could be so much fun?
Consumed with a creative energy she’d never experienced before, she indulged her secret, long-suppressed dream to write a “frivolous” romance novel. Without restraint or apology, she made a list of her favorite tropes—Opposites attract. Holiday homecoming. Unexpected inheritance—jotting down notes on how they’d each unfold. With every punctuatedclickof the keys, her heart beat faster, bursting with artistic anticipation.
By the time she paused to take a break, the characters felt like close friends. For the heroine, Callie Holloway, she borrowed bits and pieces from women she’d met at Reclaim, mixing in a pinch of herself. As a result, Callie felt real, with a personality—and challenges to overcome—that rang true to life. Her hero, Private Nick Anderson, bore a more direct resemblance to her inspiration, mirroring Nate’s backstory almost word for word.
Exhausted and exhilarated, she leaned back in the chair, stretching her fingers. She gazed in awe at the wealth of words sprawled across the screen, shocked by how much she’d accomplished in a relatively short amount of time.
In a few hours, she’d completed a comprehensive outline and five solid chapters. But what would she do with them? She lovedwhat she’d created, but a romance novel wouldn’t live up to her parents’ expectationsorher editor’s. Besides, she’d stolen Nate’s life story. His private, intimate thoughts and experiences weren’t hers to tell. She wouldn’t do anything to exploit him or betray his trust.
And yet, she couldn’t bear to delete all her hard work, either.
She saved the document onto her desktop under the acronym SCP forA Soldier’s Christmas Promise, surprised by the physical ache she felt knowing the unfinished story would never see the light of day. These characters didn’t even exist a few hours ago, so why did it hurt so much to say goodbye?
Before she could give the question more serious thought, her phone buzzed, signaling an incoming text.
Hi, sweetheart.Just got a call from Debra.
Uh-oh. Why was her editor calling her mother? Whatever the reason, it probably wasn’t good news.
