Silent Night, Star-Lit Night (Second Chance at Star Inn)(21)

“Rule books lie by nature. And besides.” He pulled her closer and planted a kiss to her forehead, a kiss of sweet comfort, but when she looked up in surprise he wasn’t the least bit comfortable. He was the distinct opposite of comfortable, longing to see . . . to taste . . . to know . . .

Gazing down, he stroked one gloved finger to her cheek and wondered why his heart beat harder and stronger whenever she came near. Why his breath caught tight in his chest, as if he wanted to charge forth and make the world a better place for her. “Mia.”

He bent his head, needing just one sampling of the sweetest lips and prettiest face he’d ever seen.

Bliss.

He’d been kissed before, plenty of times, and his mother bemoaned the fact that he hadn’t settled down. Now he knew why he hadn’t. He’d been waiting for Mia—for this—all this time.

“Jed.”

His name, a whisper. Her breath, caught in the cold, bright air, puffing white into a Christmas wonderland of pristine beauty.

It was perfect.

She was perfect, perfect for him.

She pulled back. Worry drew her brows together. “We can’t do this.”

“Too late.”

“Jed, I—”

He refused to let her analyze the kiss to death, especially because on a ranking of one to infinity it scored a very Buzz Lightyear “beyond.” “Mia, if ever there was a moment when a pretty girl needed to be kissed and kissed well, it’s this one.” He waved a hand to the surreal beauty surrounding them. “I’m not exactly immune to this setting, and being caught in the storm with you made me think hard about a lot of things.”

Dismay drew her brows together.

“I didn’t mean to trap you with that question last night. It was bad timing and stupid and I apologize.”

She studied him, their breath mingling in tiny clouds of frozen, white air.

“I put you on the spot because I was concerned, but I should have waited for you to open the topic. Except maybe I was worried you’d never talk about it. Maybe I was worried about what effect that would have on you. And her.” He dropped his gaze to the curve of the baby.

“How did you know?” She held tight to his gaze, never blinking. “I told no one. It was embarrassing enough to have to deal with Daniel’s cheating on my own. I wasn’t about to have others pity me or pretend to sympathize while they sat around wondering why I couldn’t keep my husband happy.”

“Oh, honey.” He hugged her then, close and warm in the late-day chill. “Why would you think it’s about you? It’s about him. It’s always been about him, even back in high school. When you married him, I thought he must have changed.”

He leaned back to see her face, and when she grimaced he drew her in again. “Obviously not.”

“Well, I was stupid.”

“Not true.”

“I forgave too often.”

“I’ve been in church a lot of times in thirty years. I’m pretty sure there is no such thing. But there is a time for every purpose, for every season. Wanna walk and talk, pretty lady?”

She looked skeptical at first, then nodded. “That would be nice, actually.”

He took her hand in his. They started to stroll along the sidewalk, surrounded by holiday warmth and cheer. No one else was out, most likely still targeting the storm’s aftermath, and the solitude made the walk even sweeter. “You kept a brave face for the funeral.”

“That was before I found out that Daniel had a child with another woman living in the Bay Area. And a mistress in Seattle. And did I mention that his life insurance was left to the woman in the Bay Area and that I would have to sue to get my legally allotted fifty percent per California community property law?”

“No.” He paused and turned her to face him. “He didn’t do that, did he? Now I really want to beat on him, just to make myself feel better.”

She glanced away, then up at him. “I went to meet her.”

“Why?”

“I needed to see what she had that I didn’t have. What was special about her? Was she prettier? Nicer? Sexier? And before you scoff, let me just say that morning sickness and baggy eyes made me feel quite unsexy for about eight long weeks. I had to know, Jed.”

He could understand that. And yet . . . “I wish you hadn’t put yourself through that. And alone, besides.”

“Not alone.” She laid one hand over the swell of the baby. “We went together. And she was surprised to meet me. She had no idea he was married, and she felt terrible. And she offered to give the money back when it came to her; I mean, that’s how nice she was. He’d promised to marry her and the little boy looked just like Daniel. She’d even given him that name and called him Danny-boy.”

“You didn’t accept the money.”

“How could I?” She shrugged. “She was a waitress at a diner. The little boy was two years old. Raising kids is expensive, and I realized that I wasn’t afraid to take care of this baby on my own because in a way I’ve been on my own forever. And I was absolutely certain I didn’t want that kind of experience for my daughter, so I wished the woman well and walked away.”

“That took courage.”

She paused, gazing over the town. “And humility. Anyway, that’s the story. I had six more months on my lease, and Daniel’s military benefit would come to me, enough to give baby and me a fresh start. I figured now would be the best time to make changes, but then I heard about Grandpa and knew I had to come north.” She squeezed Jed’s hand lightly. “Thank you so much for listening to your mom and Auntie P. What would I have done if I’d headed into that storm alone?”