You Had Me At Christmas: A Holiday Anthology(143)

Briefly, because he couldn’t help it, because it was what he always did on Christmas Eve, he wondered where Trina was. If she was okay.

“Can I help you?” the nurse asked.

“I’m looking for Marion McKenzie. I’m her son.” The words were torn from his chest. He’d been a very bad son to his mother this last year.

“Well, officially visiting hours are over, but since it’s Christmas and all.” The nurse dropped her voice and smiled at him. “I don’t think anyone will mind. Just follow the red arrows.”

“She’s okay?” Dean asked, feeling like something was short-circuiting in his brain.

“Well, she broke her wrist and the doctors are worried about a concussion.”

“Concussion?”

“Doctors are keeping an eye on her. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Well, it sounded like doctors were worried about a concussion. He rubbed a hand over his face and the snowman started up again.

Holy hell, he was going to tear that thing’s head off.

As if the nurse knew, she pressed a button on the decoration, and the silence was blissful.

“She’s on the second floor. Room 214. Go on up. She’ll be happy to see you.”

Dean followed the red arrows to the elevator and punched the Up arrow. And then again, because the elevator was so damn slow. And then one more time, because it kind of felt good and he had a lot of fear and stress that had no place to go.

Finally the silver doors opened. He stepped inside, then jabbed at the Close Door button.

“Hold that! Excuse me. Hold the door.” He shoved his arm in the way of the closing doors, and they popped back open. There stood a woman in a silver ball gown. Something slinky and long that hugged a compact, strong body.

Trina’s compact, strong body.

“Dean!” She blinked at him, her arms full of soda cans and little bags of nuts and chips and licorice from a vending machine. “You’re here.”

In jeans and T-shirt, in shapeless winter jackets, naked as a jaybird, she was and always had been the most beautiful woman in the world. And in that sexy, sophisticated dress she nearly dropped him to his knees.

The sight of her was like getting bucked off a horse, a weightless sense of falling. And then a bone-jarring impact.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Your mom fell,” she said, looking at him with wide eyes. “Didn’t you get the messages?”

“I got the messages.” Three from his father. Two from Trina. He’d been cleaning his stuff out of Holly’s and missed the calls. “But you were fired.”

“No. I quit. Big distinction. One your brother isn’t so keen on making clear.” The doors bounced back away from his arm again, and a buzzer started. “You gonna let me in or do I have to take the stairs?”

He stepped out of her way.

“You’re not family,” he said, and she blinked, stepping into the corner, like he’d put her there.

“The nurse gave me a hard time about visiting hours, but you’re here and you’re not family.”

“The nurse said it didn’t matter. Christmas Eve and everything.”

Pretty lax around here with the rules, if you asked him.

He reached past her and pushed the button for the second floor, and the silver doors slowly slid shut.

I should have taken the stairs.

It was claustrophobic and close in the elevator, and every breath he took tasted like her. No matter where he looked, he caught the flash of her dress in the corner of his eye. A mirage. He leaned back against the far wall as far from her as he could get.

“You quit?”

“Four months ago.”

“But I heard—”

“Josh has been telling everyone I was fired.”

He told himself he didn’t care why she quit. Or why Josh was telling people she was fired. It was bullshit. Of course he cared.

He looked at her and he…he just wanted her. And now, right now, he just wanted to grab onto her and hold her tight. And it hurt, a lot, that she didn’t want him. Not really.

A piano version of “Silent Night” pumped out of the tinny speakers.

He wanted to ask her if she’d played at the party, but he kept his mouth shut, the question stinging his lips.

“They hired a harpist,” she said, watching the numbers switch over on the digital screen above the door. “She was good.”

“Only the best for my folks,” he muttered with a darkness he couldn’t seem to control.

She wrapped her arms over her chest as best she could with her hands full. He saw goose bumps on her shoulders and arms. And concern for her was a river he could not stop. No matter how hard he tried.

“Where’s your coat, girl?” he asked.

“Upstairs. I thought you’d be there tonight,” she said, over her shoulder at him.

“At the party?”

She nodded. Her creamy skin just a little pink.

It would be nice to pretend, even for a second, that she’d dressed for him—in the hopes she’d see him. But he’d fallen victim to that kind of false warmth before. It was dangerous, that false warmth. It came right before hypothermia.

“My invitation must have gotten lost in the mail.”