Under the Mistletoe (3 page)

Nick took the stairs at a jog, his gut in knots.

Mia’s shower was running, and he waited until she came out of the bathroom. In just a towel, steam surrounding her, she stared at him, and slowly shook her head.

And then her eyes filled with tears.

His heart squeezed as he strode to her and pulled her in close.

“He wanted me to marry him,” she said against his chest.

Nick went still. “And you said…?”

“I loved him when I was seventeen,” she said soggily, “with everything I had. I wanted to make it work, but he didn’t. He told me to move on. So that’s what I did. He broke my heart, and I just broke his.”

Nick let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and pressed his jaw to the top of her head.

“I think you should go,” she whispered.

Nick had made it a lifelong policy to never stay a moment longer than he was wanted. Ever. So he headed out of the building much the way Carlos had only a little while before and walked home. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep that night was the feel of Mia’s tears on his neck.

Rolling over again, he punched his pillow. He’d made a choice back then, and he’d been wrong. He shouldn’t have left her.

And he’d made the same mistake tonight.

At the crack of dawn, he gave up trying to sleep. He dressed and went to Mia’s apartment. He needed to see her, talk to her. Touch her. He had a key, but it didn’t feel right to just let himself in this time. But she didn’t answer, which is what happened when one acted like a complete ass. A complete, stupid ass. “Mia,” he said, “let me in.”

At the deafening silence, he blew out a sigh and pulled out his phone. But either she’d turned hers off or she’d hit Ignore because his call went right to voice mail. “Come to the door, Mia.”

Three doors down, an older lady peeked out and frowned at him. “So you’re
all
stupid then,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“‘Let me in.’ ‘Come to the door.’ You always demand like that? No wonder she isn’t answering. Try
asking
sometime. Not all women will stand for that
50 Shades
crap, you know.” She gave a disgusted headshake and slammed her door shut.

Nick had no idea what “50 Shades crap” was, but he looked at Mia’s door. Had he been demanding? He knocked again. “Mia? Can we talk?”

When the door still didn’t open, he gave up and tried a text:
I’m at your place, come to the door.
He paused, and then added
please
.

Hoping that covered all the bases, he waited a minute. Mia always responded to his texts right away, even when she was busy at school or work. She wanted to be a high school counselor when she finished grad school, and was working on getting an internship. But swamped as she was, she always made time for him no matter what—which never failed to make him feel special. Wanted.

Needed.

She was the first person to ever make him feel those things, and it meant a lot to him.
She
meant a lot to him.

But his phone remained ominously silent and her door remained shut, neither of which boded well.

He knew his own issues—he’d always been reluctant to let anyone too close. But if he knew his own, he knew hers even better. She was the opposite. She
needed
to let people close, to be surrounded by those who cared.

And he also knew something else, something she’d never verbalized to him: for as well adjusted as she was, she needed her people to make a stand for her.

Nick had failed her in that, big-time, and both his heart and gut were churning over it. She’d never asked for a thing from him, but he’d known that need of hers was there and he hadn’t fulfilled it.

He could fix that. He
would
fix that, and then she’d never doubt him again.

The door behind him opened, and he turned to face Mia’s other neighbor. Cindy was twenty-something, rumpled but pretty, with an infant in her arms and a toddler in a Santa hat wrapped around one leg.

“Hey, Nick,” she said in surprise. “Mia left already.”

“Left?”

“Yeah, she caught a cab a few hours ago.”

Chapter 3

M
ia landed in Seattle and took a shuttle to Lucky Harbor. It was a long drive, and she hadn’t wanted to inconvenience anyone to come get her.

Okay, that was a lie. Her heart hurt and felt too big for her rib cage, and her emotions were all over the place. She needed time to get herself together.

Tara and Ford Walker—her birth parents—might not have formally met her until she sought them out at age seventeen, but there was no doubt that having them in her life had completed her. She belonged to them. She loved them. But…

But
she’d
found
them
.
She’d
picked
them
. She’d picked Nick, too, though, and look how that had turned out.

Shoving away the unproductive thought, she inhaled deeply, taking in the thick, lush forestland of the Olympic Mountains as the van cut through them. On the other side, as they came down to the coast and into the little bowl where Lucky Harbor was nestled, she found herself relaxing a little. The ocean churned wildly beneath a gunmetal-gray sky, and the air was scented with sea salt and pine—unique to Lucky Harbor. The town smelled perennially of Christmas, which never failed to make her smile.

Being back here made it hard to hold on to a bad mood, but she intended to give it a try. Except it wasn’t a bad mood. It was a broken heart.

Nick never promised you anything.

That thought came with another—maybe he’d only liked her because she understood being abandoned. Maybe she’d been nothing more than a mental crutch for him. This thought tumbled in her brain for a few minutes, giving her a headache. But she couldn’t blame him for this. He’d never given her false hopes. He’d never said that they were going anywhere with this relationship.

Hell, he’d never even said they
had
a relationship.

She’d just assumed, and everyone knew what assuming anything got you. Good and hurt.

Realizing she’d never turned her phone back on after her flight, she pushed the power button and watched as a few texts loaded from Nick.

I’m at your place, come to the door.

And then the shocking
please
.

She called him, but it went straight to voice mail. Since she had no idea what to say, she hung up.

He’d gone to her place. There was a terrible beat of hope, but realistically she knew it’d been to make sure she was okay. He’d made it clear how he felt; that wasn’t going to change. It didn’t mean he was a bad guy.

He wasn’t. He was one of the good guys. One of the best…

And wasn’t that just the problem.

The van entered Lucky Harbor and made its way along the quaint Victorian main street, past the pier and the Ferris wheel, and finally down the narrow road to the Lucky Harbor B&B. The B&B was run by her mom Tara and her two sisters, Maddie and Chloe. They’d turned away all reservations for the next two weeks to concentrate on the wedding. But Mia knew the place would be abuzz with craziness, and in spite of her heartache, her spirits lifted slightly at what lay ahead.

A wedding.

The B&B had been decorated for the holidays, with a fresh garland lining the wraparound porch. At night, the two-story Victorian would be lit up with strings of white twinkling lights. In the light of day, the flower beds were filled with festive red poinsettias.

Mia tipped her driver and got out. The sun peeked through the clouds, piercing the sky with long, shimmery beams that shifted into a rainbow over the water. It was all so amazing and gorgeous, it could have been a painting, and a very small part of her happiness returned.

A gardener was hard at work on the yard, his back to her. He was digging holes for planting, the shovel moving steadily in and out of the dirt, the muscles of his shoulders, arms, and back flexing and bunching effortlessly, and Mia went still as stone, as recognition hit hard.

Carlos.

The past five years fell away, and just like that memories of a far simpler time washed over her, back to when a teenage crush had been the most important thing in her life.

It’d been four months since he’d come to New York to ask her to give him another shot, and she hadn’t seen or heard from him since. Before Mia could say a word, a young woman came around the corner of the house and threw herself into his arms.

Carlos easily caught her up and with a megawatt smile, lowered his head and kissed her.

And kissed her.

Feeling intrusive, Mia took an involuntary step back, unable to put a finger on what she felt exactly. Envious that she’d broken up with the love of her life while Carlos was clearly so happy? As unflattering as that was, yes. She must have made a sound because Carlos broke from the kiss and turned to face her. He was wearing dark, reflective sunglasses, which he slowly shoved to the top of his head. And then he smiled.

The woman in his arms disentangled herself and turned with curiosity in Mia’s direction. Carlos murmured something soft to her, squeezed her hand, and then left her, heading toward Mia.

“Hey,” he said, genuine affection in his voice as he reached for her. Mia was so relieved that it wasn’t awkward that she walked right into his arms.

It wasn’t the same kind of embrace he’d just shared with the woman still watching them, not even close. Nor was it the same kind of embrace that Carlos himself would have given Mia once upon a time. It was warm and friendly. Not sexual.

Mia waited for the hit of disappointment over that, but though being held by Carlos was bittersweet, she ached for someone else.

For Nick.

She missed his solid warmth, the way he always tightened his grip on her in a way that made her feel like she was his everything.

His
pick.

For a moment, she closed her eyes against the sorrow that was threatening to bring her to her knees and held on to the oh-so-painfully-familiar Carlos. Then she stepped back and gave him as big a smile as she could manage.

“It’s good to see you,” he said sincerely. “You look beautiful. You must be fighting the guys off left and right.”

No, just scaring them off…

“Yes,” she said lightly, “and it’s quite the chore.”

Carlos smiled, and then turned to the other woman and held out his hand for her. When she came close, he said, “Theresa, this is Mia.”

Theresa’s smile was as reserved as Mia’s. “Ah,” she said, “the one who got away. I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re the one who taught him how to treat a woman right, which makes me eternally grateful to you.” She moved into Carlos a little bit, marking her territory. “Hope you enjoy your stay.”

*  *  *

Mia found everyone in the large B&B kitchen—her parents, Maddie and Jax, Chloe, and Sawyer. They were all in an assembly line, wrapping what appeared to be an entire Toys R Us warehouse of stuff.

After welcome hugs and kisses, Mia was put to work wrapping presents for Maddie and Jax’s two kids.

“We might have gone overboard,” Maddie said, passing Mia a pair of scissors.

“Might?” Sawyer asked drily, attempting to fold a neat corner and failing.

Chloe took over for him. “Tell us, Mia.”

“Tell you what?”

She smiled gently. “Why you’re looking like you just found out there’s no Santa.”

“I’m fine,” she said. And then she burst into tears.

Chapter 4