Page 13 of A Not So Merry Kiss-mas
“A pediatric nurse,” he says, then whistles, before empathy fills his eyes. “You’re my hero. That is one tough job. Maybe even harder than mine.”
“It can be, but it can also be extremely rewarding.” Warmth fills my chest from his praise, just as “Last Christmas” by Wham! plays through the speakers. “My ex-fiance wasn’t thrilled with my career choice.”
“Well then, he was a fool. Do you want to dance?” Michael asks, and my brows shoot up in surprise. I glance down at his extended arm and hesitate.
“Maybe later,” I murmur, pulling my lip between my teeth as his eyes dim. I haven’t danced with anyone since Lucien. I’m enjoying myself, but I’m not ready to be held close by someone yet. More importantly, I’m not sure I’m ready to be held by Michael.
I smile in an attempt to take away the sting my words obviously caused. “I’m starving. Do you want to grab something to eat?” I ask, nodding toward the buffet tables.
The knot in my stomach loosens as Michael gives me that easy grin of his. “Sure.” He stretches his arm out and says, “Ladies first.”
Taking a step toward the buffet, he moves to my side. And although he isn’t touching me, I can feel heat radiating from his palm as it hovers over my lower back. Once again, his gentleness, along with a hand close by should I need him, warms me with a care I’m not used to experiencing.
Chapter Seven
Mike
When I realized the vision walking toward me was Melanie, Noelle’s friend ‘Mel’, it took all of my firefighter training not to fist-pump the air and high-five Cole. The woman I’ve beendying to get to know better is the person my best friend is setting me up with.
To say I was elated would be an understatement, especially since I was beginning to lose hope that she’d ever get past our first meeting.
Melanie’s reaction to ‘Mike’ being me was unexpected…but in the absolute best way. In fact, the entire night has been one big surprise. After her chilly reception, not all that icy for ‘Mel’, honestly, getting to know her has been a joy.
We have a similar dark humor, which makes perfect sense given our career choices. I’ve laughed more tonight than I have in months, and now she’s finally in my arms, swaying to Michael Buble’s version of “I’ll Be Home For Christmas”.
“What made you want to become a pediatric nurse?” I ask, and immediately there’s a pit in my stomach for asking, given the dark elements our jobs entail. But when I see the passion that fills her eyes, I know asking about this rather than her fiancé was the safer topic.
Don’t judge me, I’ve been known to fumble the football when under pressure, and this woman’s nearness throws me off my game.
She doesn’t answer immediately, but I can tell from the slight furrow in her brow that she’s working to find the best way to respond. The crease deepens, and without thinking, I lift my hand resting on her lower back and gently brush my thumb against her forehead. Her body stiffens, and her eyes widen. Her brow goes from surprised to quizzical.
“I knew from the time I was little that I wanted to be a firefighter like my dad when I grew up.” I don’t know why I’m telling her about me and my career choice, but I do. The only thing that fits is that I could feel the pressure my question put on her, and I wanted to remove it. “When he died during a five-alarm fire, my mother begged me to choose another career, but firefighting is in my blood.”
“How do you do that?” Her feet stop, and she pins me with her gaze. Confusion and wonder reflected there.
“I’m trained to handle crises and de-escalate stressful situations,” I chuckle, surprised by my response too, but it’s true. “It’s almost second nature to rescue people.”
Melanie stares at me, disbelief filling her eyes, before the most amazing thing happens. She laughs. A sound so rich it tugs at my heart. Everyone in the room turns our way to see what’s so funny, but Melanie doesn’t even notice as her shoulders shake uncontrollably.
A grin splits my face, and I place my hand on her lower back, encouraging her to sway with me to the music again.
“When I was a child, I was in a bad car accident,” Melanie starts softly, her eyes focused on my chest as she answers the question I forgot I asked. “Thankfully, everyone survived, but I needed to stay in the hospital for weeks.”
My heart sinks as I imagine a younger version of the woman in front of me suffering, especially with some of the horrors I’ve seen in my line of work.
She raises her emerald gaze to me, and my breath catches at the tears welling there. The vulnerability she’s allowing me pulls at my soul, and an overwhelming wave of gratitude fills me. “I’ve never forgotten the nurses and how they made my stay not only bearable but entertaining,” Melanie continues, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips. “When I decided to work in healthcare, I knew exactly what I wanted to specialize in.”
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” I swallow hard, pushing past a lump in my throat. Her cheeks turn a sweet shade of pink, and there’s a flicker in my chest. I am completely enchanted by the woman in my arms.
Without thinking about what I’m doing, I push a strand of hair behind her ear. At my touch, I hear a soft gasp fall from her lips, and my gaze is pulled to her mouth. When I notice a corner lift, I feel my lips twitch in response.
Melanie’s hand slides from the side of my arm to the hollow between my shoulder and neck, my pulse pounds, and my eyes lift to her face. What I see reflected in her eyes pulls my breath from me.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m leaning in, my lips inches from hers, her hand wrapped around the nape of my neck. I shift my gaze up to hers to find her staring at my mouth.
Every fiber of my being is begging me to lean in and capture her lips with mine. But the part of me that hesitates is the part that I heed. This woman would barely even say two words to me twenty-four hours ago. Kissing her, even though her eyes are bright and her lips are slightly parted like she wants me to, is a bad idea.
Bad idea, Mike.
