eyes, which had been sparkling with tears a few minutes ago, now gleamed with amusement. The warmth of the good memory had washed away, at least temporarily, whatever sadness she’d been feeling.
“I miss her a lot,” she admitted simply. “My dad, too. It’ll be five years Tuesday.”
He sucked in a surprised breath. She’d lost both parents, together, which could only mean some kind of tragedy. And just two days after Christmas…No wonder she’d just rather skip over the whole holiday season. Talk about mixing up happy thoughts with sad ones. “I’m so sorry, Lucy.”
“Me, too.” She glanced around the crowded store. “I guess you’ve figured out that’s why I’m not a big fan of the season.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s why my brother and I have unconventional holidays.”
But this year, she’d already told him, she wouldn’t be seeing her brother. And her roommate was going away. She would be entirely alone, surrounded by a merry world while she sunk deeper into memories of the past.
Not if he could help it. She wanted unconventional? Fine. One good way to start—how about Christmas with a near-stranger?
He lifted a hand to her face and brushed his fingertips across her cheek. “Well then, how about we make a deal? I promise not to sing any carols or serve you any eggnog…if you promise to spend this holiday weekend with me.”
A FEW HOURS later, after having shopped a little more and laughed a lot more, they grabbed some dinner, then headed back toward Lucy’s place. The tiny apartment she shared with Kate wasn’t too far away from Beans & Books, where Ross had left his truck. She told herself he was just escorting her home and would then leave. But in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help wondering just how much of the weekend he’d meant when he talked about them spending this holiday together.
And how much she wanted him to mean.
It was crazy, considering she’d dated Jude for three months and had barely let him onto second base, with one unsatisfying attempt to steal third. But she already knew she wanted Ross to hit the grand slam. What she felt when she was with him—savoring the warmth of his hand in hers, quivering when his arm accidentally brushed against her body, thrilling to the sound of his voice—was undiluted want. She’d heard it described, but now, for the first time, she felt it.
She knew she should slow it down. But something—not just the instant physical attraction, but also his warm sense of humor, his generosity, the sexy laugh—made him someone she didn’t want to let get away. So, when they got back to her building, she intended to invite him up for a drink. And then see what happened. Or make something happen.
She and Kate shared a small efficiency, whose rent was probably as much as a mortgage payment for places outside the city. Right now, the apartment was empty. Kate had left for the holidays—she’d called two hours ago, right before Teddy was picking her up. So the place was all Lucy’s for the weekend.
Hmm. Was it possible she was within hours of getting it at last? she didn’t mean getting laid, she meant finally understanding. Finally grasping what it was like to be so overcome by pleasure that you lost track of the rest of the world.
Her steps quickened. She was so anxious to get home, to start finding out if the weekend included nights or only daytime hours, she didn’t notice when Ross stopped walking. She finally realized it and looked over her shoulder, seeing him a half-dozen steps back. He stood in the middle of a crowded Sixth Avenue sidewalk, and was gazing up toward the sky.
No. Not the sky. Those twinkling lights weren’t stars. Instead, thousands of tiny bulbs set the night aglow, their gleam picked up by a sea of sparkling ornaments gently held in the arms of an enormous evergreen.
“Can you believe this is the first time I’ve seen it?” Ross asked, staring raptly at the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree.
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “It’s my first Christmas in the Big Apple, and I haven’t happened to be over this way for the past few weeks.”
Lucy might be Ebenezer’s long-lost twin sister, but she couldn’t be a scrooge when it came to seeing Ross with that delighted expression on his face. He looked like a kid. A big, muscular, incredibly handsome, sexy-as-sin kid.
She returned to his side, looking up at the tree. It was beautiful against the night sky, ablaze with light and color. Even her hardened-to-Christmas heart softened at the sight.
Saying nothing, Ross led her toward an empty bench ahead. It was night and the crowds had thinned to near-reasonable levels.
She sat beside him on the bench, giving him time to stare at the decor. But to her surprise, he instead looked at her. “Since this is probably as close to a tree as you’re going to get this year, do you want to open your present now?”
She glanced at the tattered box, which she’d lugged around all day. She could wait and open it when she got home, but somehow, this moment seemed right. “I already know what it is.”
“Really?”
“Well, not specifically.” She began plucking the still-damp packaging paper from the box. “Sam and I have this tradition.”
“I suspect it’s a nontraditional one.”
“You could say that.” She actually smiled as she tore off the last of the paper and lifted the lid. Jude might have broken her gift, but it was the joy of seeing what Sam had found that delighted her. No broken glass could take that away from her.
“Oh, my God,” Ross said, staring into the mound of tissue paper inside the box. “That is…is…”
“It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen,” Lucy said. She lifted her hand to her mouth, giggling. Jude’s petty destruction hadn’t done much to make this thing less appealing, because it had already been pretty damned hideous. “Isn’t it perfect?”
His jaw dropped open and he stared at her. “Seriously?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said with a nod. Then she lifted the broken snow globe, now missing glass, water and snow, and eyed the pièce de résistance that had once been the center of it. Sitting on a throne was the ugliest Santa Claus in existence. His eyes were wide and spacey, his face misshapen, his coloring off. His supposedly red suit was more 1970’s disco-era orange, and was trimmed with tiny peace signs. Beside him stood two terrifyingly emaciated, grayish children who looked like they’d risen from their graves and were about to zombiefy old St. Nick.
Hideous. Awful.
She loved it.
“Oh, this is so much better than what I got him—a dumb outhouse Santa complete with gassy sound effects.”
“Do you always give each other terrible presents?”
“Just for Christmas. He gives me snow globes, I give him some obnoxious Santa, often one that makes obscene noises.”
He chuckled. “My sisters would kill me if I did that.”
“It started as a joke—a distraction so we wouldn’t have to think too much
