Jingle Bell Rock (11 page)

Tom gratefully handed the fur-ball to Jess, and the tension was immediately defused. The puppy was two months old, Tom told her, and he was half Black Lab and half German Shepherd. Jess offered to pay, but the Halls were so grateful to have this particular disagreement taken care of, they wouldn’t hear of it.

Jess carried the puppy to her car, sheltering him from the wind and searching for a clue. All little black puppies looked alike, but if Jimmy named him Rudy...

She shook her head at the impossible idea.

With the map that was still in her glove compartment, Jess had no trouble finding her way to Jimmy’s ranch house. Of course the route was familiar. She’d traveled this section of the interstate many times, and once she was off the interstate, well, all these back roads looked alike, didn’t they?

But when she pulled into the driveway, her heart skipped a beat. A circular drive, a picture window, double doors. In her dream it had been nighttime when she’d approached, so the details were not exactly the same, but there was no mistaking the similarities.

Had Lorraine, after the barbecue, described the house to Jess in great detail, and she’d just forgotten? Had those details been planted in the back of her mind?

It was the only reasonable conclusion.

She sat in the driveway for a few long minutes, staring at the house. Had she come here all because of a dream? How silly. How stupid! A dream of a ghostly figure telling her to shape her own future, showing her what might be ahead, and Jess does something completely impulsive and out of character.

But she had to know, and besides... there was no room for a dog in her apartment.

Jess scooped the ball of fur off the passenger seat, and gathered what little strength she had left. The worst thing that could happen was that she’d make a complete fool of herself in front of Jimmy Blue and his family. Yeah,
that
wouldn’t be so bad...

Jimmy opened the door so quickly after her knock, she wondered if he’d been watching as she sat in the car trying to decide if this was insane or simply stupid.

No man had a right to look so good in jeans and a T-shirt that he took a woman’s breath away. She had to remind herself that this man was not her husband; he was just a nice guy who’d asked her out a few times. Still, she had an incredible urge to tell Jimmy she loved him and then kiss him right here in the doorway.

“Hi,” she said instead.

He stepped back and invited her in, and Jess stepped into her dream. The hat rack in the hallway, the entrance to the great room, the stone fire, place complete with blazing flames. There were unwrapped packages everywhere, and an almost bare tree at one end of the room.

“The tree should be in front of the window,” Jess whispered.

“Good idea.”

Her eyes fell on the chair, their chair, which was situated in the middle of the room.

“Great chair,” she said softly.

“Yeah. At the furniture store where I got it, they called it a chair and a half,” he said just a little bit too quickly. “They just delivered it last week. It’s really comfortable. You should try it out.”

“I will.” Her eyes scanned the room, the wrapping paper and boxes, tissue paper, ornaments and lights.

“It’s a mess,” Jimmy apologized. “My family doesn’t get here until this afternoon, and...” He stopped speaking when she looked squarely at him. “I didn’t really think you’d come,” he finished softly.

“I didn’t either,” she admitted.

The puppy squirmed, and she handed the black ball of fur with the big red bow to Jimmy. “Merry Christmas, Blue. I hope you like dogs.”

His grin answered her. “I love dogs. I’ve been meaning to get one ever since I bought this place, but I haven’t really had the time—”

“Name him,” Jess interrupted, her voice too sharp. It was suddenly important. If her dream had been a sign, or a gift, if it had somehow been a real glimpse into the future...

“When I was a kid, I had a great dog named Boomer,” Jimmy said, studying the dog’s face as if trying to decide if the name fit. Jess’s heart sank.

“Boomer.” She slipped off her coat and hung it on the rack beside Jimmy’s black hat. “That’s a good dog name, I guess.”

When Jess turned around, Jimmy was staring at her, taking in the Christmas outfit, from the sparkling sweater to the short skirt. “But I don’t think he’s a Boomer. He brought you here on Christmas day, so I think maybe I should call him...” His eyes fastened on the pin Lorraine had given her. “Rudolph.”

“Rudolph,” Jess whispered, barely able to find her voice.

“Well.” Jimmy smiled. “That’s a lot of name for a little dog. Maybe I’ll just call him Rudy.”

“Rudy,” she repeated, her voice a squeak.

He looked her up and down again. “You look”—he shook his head slowly—“really great, Jess.”

Once they had Rudy settled on an old blanket before the fireplace, she helped Jimmy move and decorate the tree and wrap the packages. One of the few packages that was already wrapped had her name on it, and Jimmy added it to the mound under the tree. It was small, almost certainly a jewelry box of some sort.

He caught her watching him. “What I got you is not nearly as good as a dog,” he said with a grin. There was an air of awkwardness between them, a sense of something new and uncertain.

Jimmy was careful not to actually touch her. The way she’d always acted in the past, he was probably afraid he would scare her away. Still, there were times as they strung the lights and stretched for those hard-to-reach places on the tree that their hands touched. No matter how hard they tried to ignore it, the magic was there.

Jess wasn’t sure exactly what to do next. If she jumped Jimmy and told him she’d visited the future in a dream and they were meant to be together, he’d surely think she was a flake. She could play it safe and wait for him to make the first move, but so far he’d been a perfect gentleman, dammit.

Of course, she’d been the one to make it clear all along that she didn’t date musicians, that she had no interest in him at all. He probably thought she was just doing the favor he’d asked of her, and would run in a heartbeat if he showed any romantic interest.

She had no one to blame for this predicament but herself.

It was almost time for his family to arrive when the phone rang. The Blues were stuck in Atlanta for two more hours due to some strange fog that had moved in unexpectedly.
Strange fog.
Jess glanced out of the windows to the clear skies and mouthed a silent thank-you to Mrs. Courtney. A little more time was just what she needed.

While Jimmy placed the last of the packages under the tree, Jess stepped into the entryway. Last night’s mistletoe was still in her pocket, and she slipped her hand into the pocket of her heavy coat to retrieve it.

“Leaving already?”

She spun around to find Jimmy watching her from just inside the great room. He looked disappointed, but not surprised. He expected the worst from her, still.

“It’s just two hours, Jess. I promise behave myself.”

Jess shook her head, and took Jimmy’s hat from the peg beside her coat. While he watched, she slipped the mistletoe securely into the leather band, stepped forward, and placed the hat on his head.

“What’s this?” Jimmy asked with a smile, wrapping his arms around her and hesitantly pulling her close.

“Tradition,” Jess said, raising up on her toes. The kiss began like the one last night at the Christmas party. Soft, tender, a delicate study of lips. Jess parted her lips, flicked her tongue over Jimmy’s bottom lip, and in a heartbeat everything changed.

She pushed his hat back, and it fell to the floor. He kissed her so deep and so hard her heart fluttered in her chest. And then Jimmy pulled his lips from hers.

“Maybe I don’t want you to behave yourself,” she whispered against his mouth. “I know,” she added before he could say a word, “that I just contradicted everything I’ve ever said about... about us. I was afraid, I guess. Afraid to believe in anything. Face it, Blue, you can have any girl you want.”

“I want you.”

“Are you sure?” Dreams were one thing, but this was real. Real, and for keeps. “Think about it. Any woman in the world, Young, old, gorgeous, rich...”

“I’m not in love with any other woman in the world, I’m in love with you,” Jimmy interrupted impatiently, and she watched the dismay steal over his face. “Too fast,” he mumbled beneath his breath. “You’re not going to bolt now, are you?” He grabbed her wrist and held her gently in place, so she couldn’t bolt even if she wanted to. “I’ll take it back, if you want.”

Jess shook her head slowly. “You can’t take it back. It’s too late.”

“Too late,” he repeated as he released her wrist and backed away a single step.

Now she could run, if she wanted to. She could run and hide and spend the rest of her life alone.

Jess stepped toward Jimmy and lifted her lips to his. “You can’t ever take it back.” She kissed him lightly, and his immediate response was to take her face in his hands and deepen the kiss.

She slipped her hands around his waist and held him tight, to steal his warmth, to feel his body close to hers... so she wouldn’t fall. Eventually, they fell to the floor together.

Jess wanted—needed—to touch Jimmy, to hold him. Her hands danced over his side, her fingers studied his neck, her thigh brushed his as she lifted her leg to wrap it around his. And the kiss wouldn’t end. She wouldn’t allow it.

She rolled Jimmy onto his back, raked her fingers through his hair, and brought her mouth almost away from his. Her tongue flicked over his mouth; her lips brushed his lightly. He settled his big hands on her hips, and with a twist and a sway of his long body he was above her again.

Somehow they ended up beside the tree. Red and green lights and an errant shaft of light from the window lit Jimmy’s face for her, but nothing, not even the strange light, could make him seem anything less than very real.

Unless she was very mistaken, they were about to initiate a new Christmas tradition.

“Blue?” she whispered when he drew his mouth from hers to kiss the column of her throat.

He answered her by slowly slipping his hand beneath her sweater.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

His hand stilled. “What?”

“About dating musicians.” She hooked her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers.

There was no more awkwardness, no indecision between them. Jimmy began to pull his lips away, then raked his mouth indolently across hers. “What made you change your mind?”

She recalled both dreams in great detail, the good and the bad of their possible futures. And then she remembered that one date she’d always sworn to everyone—Jimmy and Lorraine and herself—was not a date. The way Jimmy had looked at her that night, the way he had laughed, and the warm and natural feel of his hand in hers. She’d fallen in love with him that night, and she’d spent months denying it.

“What made you change your mind?” he asked a second time.

Jess threaded her fingers through his dark hair and pulled his mouth to hers. “You did, Blue,” she whispered as they came together. “You did.”

Always On My Mind

Linda Winstead Jones

Chapter One

This was going to be much harder than she’d imagined.

Laura closed her eyes, gathered her strength, took a deep breath, and said the words: “Michael, you have a daughter.” The revelation sounded much too blunt to her ears. Speaking more softly, she tried again. “We have a daughter.”

This was all wrong, too sudden, too abrupt, too damn late—about four years too late. With a sigh she opened her eyes and stared at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. If she couldn’t work up the nerve to confess in an empty hotel bathroom, how could she possibly confess to Michael?

But what choice did she have? When Megan had turned up those big green eyes and asked—after one of her very first days of preschool—where her daddy was, Laura had realized with a sinking heart that everything was about to change.

Not that she hadn’t thought a million times about telling Michael. As soon as she’d discovered she was pregnant she’d gone to the club where he played piano, only to be told that he and the band were off on a six-month tour as the opening act for some aging blues singer who was trying to make a comeback. The wind had gone out of her sails then, when she’d realized that he was gone. With Michael, the music always came first.
Always
.

That was what their last fight, Christmas Eve five years ago, had been all about. Laura had been ready for stability, commitment, picket fences and a mortgage and a minivan. Michael wasn’t ready to give up his music. He couldn’t promise her that he’d ever be able to give it up, that he’d ever be able to offer her what she wanted.

He’d chosen his music over her, and she’d known then that he always would. She loved Michael, she’d never stopped loving him, but how could she live with him knowing that she’d always come second?

Eight and a half months later Megan had been born.

She’d tried to see him again, when Megan was two. She and Megan had come home for Christmas, as they did every year. Someone had mentioned that Michael was back in Memphis and playing in a Beale Street club. Laura had left her mother baby-sitting and tearfully pleading that she not do this foolish thing, to drive into Memphis on Christmas Eve. On the short drive to Beale Street she’d envisioned a hundred possibilities. That Michael would see her and run into her arms, that he’d never forgotten her, that he’d never stopped loving her. With every passing second she grew more anxious. More hopeful, more...