Blue Christmas (The Moody Blue Trilogy | Book One) (4 page)

Eggnog? No
eggnog!
 “Um, Perrier would be perfect. Thank you.”

“No problem. Sweetheart?
How about you?” he asked, stealing a kiss on his wife’s cheek as she clicked
off the portable lighter.

Looking around the
room to make sure she’d lit all her candles, she followed him into the kitchen.
“I think I’ll wait and have a cup of coffee. It’s all ready to brew if you’ll
just flip the switch on the coffeemaker.”

“One Perrier, one
coffee, coming up.”

Hannah looked
around the room as she slowly lowered herself onto one of the sofas, finally
giving in to the fatigue tugging at her. She missed her family. She missed Kylie.
Her best friend would be so proud of her for being so . . .
spontaneou
s.
Kylie never met a stranger and never missed an opportunity for a new adventure.
She’d always been the wilder one, often grabbing Hannah’s hand and dragging her
into crazy situations. Hannah made a mental note to try to call her when she
got home and tell her about these people and their outrageously gorgeous home.
Maybe someday, she could introduce Kylie to Laura and Frank.

Laura quietly
slipped back into the room, a Christmas apron now wrapped around her. She set a
plate of cheese and crackers on the coffee table, grabbing a bite as she turned
to leave. “Now, don’t by shy, Hannah. Help yourself. It’ll be a few more
minutes until I have everything on the table. You must be starving.”

“Now that you
mention it, I guess I am. Thank you.” She reached for a cracker, then stopped.
“Laura? I don’t know what to say. Meeting you, then meeting Frank, then that
wonderful church service . . . and now all this . . .
well, it feels a little like heaven right now. I’ve been so buried with finals
and working so many hours . . . and now all of a sudden that’s
all behind me and I’m here and—”

“And we’re
thrilled to have you,” Laura answered, sitting on the arm of the sofa. “I’m
awfully sentimental when it comes to holidays, and I meant it when I said no
one should be alone for Christmas. We’re used to having a houseful around here,
so you’re doing us a favor just by being here. Now, go on and kick off your
shoes, if you’d like. Put your feet up, sweetie. We want you to feel perfectly
at home while you’re—”

“MOM!”

Laura halted, her
face lighting up like the twenty-foot tree in the corner. “He’s home!”

“Mom! Dad? I’ve
got someone I want you to meet!”

The previous
vision swept through Hannah’s mind. The son. The bimbo. The snide remark about
Mom picking up another stray . . . Panic sucked the breath out
of her. She dropped her head into her hands, moaning out loud.
Oh no, God,
please don’t let this happen. Just let the floor open up and swallow me before—

Suddenly,
something furry and frantic and wiggling out of control accosted her. Hot
breath panting anxiously against her nose then over to her ear sent a cruel shiver
up her back just before a wet, slobbering tongue lathered the side of her face.

“What in the—”

“Baby! Come here!
Down, girl!”

“Jason! What on
earth is going on?” Laura’s voice sliced through the pandemonium.

Hannah’s arms shielded
her face from the ongoing bath. Every time she tried to look out at the face
behind the voice, she was met with a ridiculous black snout and pink tongue
that seemed intent on licking her from one ear to the other.

“Baby! Now stop
it! Bad girl!” But the commands got lost in the infectious laughter of Frank
and Laura’s son. “Mom, this is Baby. She was a gift from some girl I met in Montana,
and I fell in love with her the minute I laid eyes on her. Well, I mean
Baby—not the girl, of course.” He dissolved in laughter at his own joke.

“But Jason, make
her stop!” Laura scolded. “For heaven’s sake, can’t you make her mind?”

“BABY!”

The puppy seemed
to snap to attention, going stiff on her lap. Suddenly, it was lifted away from
her. Hannah attempted to untangle her hair from her face as she came up for
air. Goose bumps raised on her skin as she rubbed her face, attempting to wipe
away the doggy germs.

“Whoa—Mom!” The
laughter beginning to subside. “Aren’t you going to introduce me? Who is this?”

“Yes, but first
give me a hug, you big lug. It’s about time you got home!” Laura teased.

“Nice entrance,
hotshot,” Frank bellowed. “Give your old man a hug while you’re at it.”

Hannah could hear
the three of them as they shared a welcome-home embrace.
Oh great, and now
I’m intruding on a Norman Rockwell moment.
She avoided looking at them,
postponing the inevitable introduction as long as possible. Shaking off the
last remnant of a shiver, she focused on wiping the dog hair off her slacks and
tried to make herself presentable.

Laura made the
introduction. “Hannah, I want you to meet our son, Jason. Jason, honey, this is
Hannah—well, good grief. I never did ask you for your last name!”

Hannah started to
say her name when she finally looked up, her eyes locking onto his face—a face
so familiar she froze. She knew that face—the bridge of his nose, the sandy
brows, the shaggy blond hair, the famous green eyes, the tiny smile lines edging
them. She felt the heat crawling up her neck as she tried to answer. “Juh . . .”

His eyebrows arched.
Just like his mother’s only moments ago. His eyes danced, just as Laura’s had
danced.
Those eyes I once adored such a long time ago . . .

In a millisecond
she was swept back in time.

She was sixteen in
a huge arena filled with thousands of screaming fans. The stage exploded in
pyrotechnic wonders, backlighting the five singers as they finished their final
encore.
Out of the Blue,
the hottest singing group to crash the music
culture, was on its latest world tour. Their ground-breaking stage performances
had energized sold-out crowds around the world for over ten years. Whether
seated on stools singing ballads in perfect five-part harmony or spread across
the stage like wild men tearing through one hit after another,
Blue
always delivered. Thrilling young and old alike, they consistently offered a
diverse range of musical styles, catapulting them to the top of the charts year
after year.

On that night so
long ago, Hannah saw her idols live in concert for the first time—a moment she
would never forget as long as she lived. She had edged her way closer to the
stage desperately hoping to get a closer look at Jason, Gevin, JT, Jackson, and
Sergio before they disappeared from sight. Earlier she’d worried that her white
down jacket made her look like the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man. Now, lost in a
sea of hysterical fans, she was glad she’d worn it. Because even as she waved
eagerly at lead singer Jason McKenzie praying to get his attention, her jacket
must have caught his eye. He pointed straight at her, his face breaking into
that huge, to-die-for smile as he waved back at her. His hands slid back over
his heart in a gallant gesture of genuine star-to-fan appreciation. She waved
back, forever changed.

Jason McKenzie knows I’m alive!

Then, just as
quickly, the memory vanished. Six years had passed since that night. And even
though she’d lost track of her favorite singers as the demands of college and
work dominated her life, now it all made sense. The pieces of the puzzle fell
into place in a frenzied blur.

Laura and Frank.
THE Laura and Frank McKenzie, parents of her childhood idol, Jason McKenzie.
How could she have missed the connection? The palatial estate. Even the peanut
M&M’s—every devoted
Blue
fan knew it was Jason’s favorite candy.

Now, here she was—in
the home of Jason McKenzie and his parents as their personal guest on Christmas
Eve.

With a face washed
in dog slobber.

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

J
ason watched her struggle. Her mouth worked
the letters but failed. He took in the sparkle of her eyes and didn’t miss—what
was it?—innocence? Something fresh and sincere in those soft hazel eyes. She
tucked a strand of her silky brown hair behind her ear as a shy smile tugged at
her mouth. Tiny dimples accented a face he found altogether enchanting.
Yes,
that’s what she is—enchanting.
He’d heard the term used in a movie he
watched on the tour bus just last week. Now he knew exactly what it meant. He
noticed the navy wool slacks and the cream turtleneck sweater that draped her
slim figure perfectly. He didn’t miss the highlights in her hair, like fine
strands of gold reflecting the candlelight around them.

She tried again. “Ja . . .”

“Your last name is
James? Jacobs? Gentry?” he asked, scratching his head.

She fell back onto
the sofa. “Ja . . .”

This was too much
fun. The long road trip had exhausted him, but the quest of this mystery girl
in their home somehow reenergized him. He handed the squirming puppy to his
mother. “Mom, this is Baby. Pretend she’s your granddaughter and get
acquainted.”

“Oh Jason, why on
earth you decided to bring home a puppy I will never know,” she grumbled with
just a hint of humor on the edge.

He sat down beside
their guest, draping a brotherly arm around her shoulder in a gesture he hoped
would relax her. “Look—Hannah, is it?” She nodded, her eyes glued to his. “This
happens all the time. No big deal. It still embarrasses me but—”

“Embarrasses
you
?”
she croaked.

“Progress! She
speaks!”

“I can’t . . .
I mean . . . but you’re . . .” Hannah gasped. “Oh,
this is just
too
embarrassing. I . . . I’m
so
sorry. Of
course
I know who you are. You must think I’m like one of your
groupies—” she stopped, realizing what she’d said. “No, no I didn’t mean that. I’m
sorry! I mean, your
fans.
Of course.
Fans.
Groupies are just so
lame. Silly, really, don’t you think?”

Her nervous
laughter cracked him up, along with that face turning deeper shades of red. She
closed her eyes, raising her hands in surrender and shaking her head in
obvious, utter embarrassment. He pressed his lips together trying not to laugh.

“Um, I didn’t mean
that there’s anything wrong with groupies, of course. I used to be one. Well, I
mean, I wasn’t
really
a—”

There it was
again. That funny, nervous laugh. She dropped her head in her hands, hiding her
face from him.

He got up, sliding
onto the coffee table directly in front of her, popping a slice of Monterey
Jack in his mouth as he pushed the plate aside. “Okay, let me help you.” He
pried her fingers away from her face and took both of her hands in his. He finished
the cheese and looked at her, face to face. “Hannah, it’s nice to meet you,” he
said softly. “Now the way I see it, you must be someone
very
special to
have an invitation from my mom and dad on Christmas Eve. And if you’re special
to them, then I should make an effort to get to know you too. Now, tell me—how
do you know my parents?”

She was looking
him over. He watched her glazed eyes move from his hair to his chin to his
mouth . . . He suppressed another smile. Ordinarily, this kind
of reaction got old fast. Real fast. But tonight he was intrigued.
Who is she?
Who is this unexpected guest on a night Mom always reserves for family only?
And why is that face so fascinating?

He patted her
hand. “So are you from around here? Do you work at Dad’s company?”

She tried to
answer. Something resembling a croak erupted from her but nothing more. He
looked at his parents for answers, but then it hit him. “WAIT! Are you from
UNC? A college girl stuck in town for the holidays?”

A grin spread
across her face. She nodded her affirmation.

“For real? No way!
That’s great! We have a Tarheel in the house, people! Man, I love UNC. One of
these days I’m gonna go back and get my degree. Isn’t that right, Dad?”

“Jason, will you
quit peppering our guest with all your questions?” his mother admonished,
moving behind the sofa where Hannah sat. “I’ve met Hannah several times before,
and this evening I invited her to join us for the service at church and dinner
here at home. That’s all you need to know right now. We’ll have plenty of time
for you to get acquainted. Now go do something with this dog and clean up. It’s
time for supper. Go on, now,” she ordered, holding the squirming puppy out
toward her son.

He looked back at
Hannah and gently squeezed her hands. “Apparently duty calls. I’ll be right
back.”

Laura took Hannah
by the hand, helping her off the couch then leading her into the kitchen. “Now,
just remember. He’s a normal person like anybody else. He’s really just a kid.
My
kid. And while he’s home, we don’t do the celebrity thing, okay?” She was quite
serious. “I guess I should have warned you about Jason, but then I hate to be
presumptuous and assume everybody knows who he is. I take it you’re familiar
with
Out of the Blue
?”

This time Hannah
laughed out loud. “You could say that.”

“Well, trust me.
All that crazy lifestyle may look glamorous but it’s a hard way to live. And we
don’t cater to
any
of it when he’s home. So just relax. All right?
You’re a lovely young lady who is our special guest tonight, and we want you to
feel right at home like part of the family.”

Laura pointed
Hannah to her seat at the kitchen table, set with Christmas dishes, colorful plaid
napkins and a cluster of candles and holly at the center. Somehow the serenity
of the setting helped calm Hannah’s nerves. She started to take her seat then
remembered the slime of puppy germs on her hands. Holding them up in silent
explanation, she laughed at Laura’s reaction then headed for the sink.

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