Page 10 of Second Chances with St. Nick

“Nick, I think we should talk.”

He opened his eyes to meet mine. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to. I don’t think we have much left to say to each other.”

The bottom of my stomach dropped away, like someone pulled a trap door. “But I need to tell you why I…”

He shook his head. “No, you don’t. I’d rather leave my heart intact this time.” Nick let out a thick breath. “Has he gone? The man at the bar, I mean.”

I faltered. I could lie—say the man was still watching—give Nick every reason to keep me in his embrace. But our movement would spin us around eventually, and he’d know I’d not told the truth. I nodded, blood ringing in my ears. “He’s gone.”

“Good.” Nick’s voice was low and gravelly.

I swallowed away a lump in my throat, about to ask him to stay, but the minute I opened my mouth, Nick spoke.

“Please. I mean it. I don’t want to talk.”

We locked eyes. The colored lights flooding the walls fought with the golden flecks in Nick’s irises. He looked so sad. So devastatingly rugged and handsome. Against my better judgment, I nodded, and he pulled me back in close to his body.

I lay my ear against his chest and listened to the steady pound of his heart through the solid wall of his pecs. I let out a tiny sigh. What I wouldn’t give to be trapped here forever.

As if hearing my brain’s chatter, Nick drew his hand across my back, resting his palm between my shoulder blades. His thumb moved softly from side to side as if committing the feel of me to memory.

We circled around to the music, moving slowly. With each step, each brush of our bodies, a pulse of energy nudged low in my belly. It took all my energy to not pull him into me. To resist the urge to press back into him. But all too soon, the music ended.

Nick and I slowly uncurled from each other, and I looked tentatively into his eyes. There was a glow there, but something else. Like emptiness or regret. My chest tugged.

After the longest beat, he took a breath. “Thank you for the dance. It meant a lot.” The husky burr of his voice lingered in the air between us. Before I could reply, he took my face in his outsized palms and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. His lips stayed far longer than a friend’s should, and my throat tightened.

After what felt like forever, he loosened his fingers on my cheeks, bringing his mouth to my ear. “Goodbye, Abbie,” he said, before turning and walking away.

As I watched him make his way across the dance floor and out of my life, my heart skittered like a baby goat running on floorboards. I wrapped my arms around my body, trying to lock in his heat. He’d said goodbye once already tonight, but fate had brought him back to me.

I looked up into the rafters above, and a disco beat pulsed in the air once more. With a shake of my head, I sent a silent prayer to St Anthony, patron saint of lost people, asking him for onemore chance to see Nick. I only hoped he could hear me above the noise.

6

SANCTUARY AND SNOWDRIFTS

Ichecked my watch for the hundredth time as the bus wound up the mountain. We’d been late setting off from Pine Pass. The bus company had taken time to put extra chains on the tires. I gazed out the window as the snowfall intensified. Delicate, shattered crystal patterns clung to the glass and gathered at the corners. All was dark outside, apart from the eerie white glow of the snow on the hills.

The lumpy seat dug into my back, and I closed my eyes as Bing Crosby’sWhite Christmasreached me from the driver’s radio. Tonight was Christmas Eve. I’d spent my afternoon down in Pine Pass again, shopping for a wedding gift for Cissy and picking up my bridesmaid’s dress from the dressmaker. After their alterations, the gown fit me like a glove. I lifted the corners of my mouth. Dare I say the adjustments they’d made suited my “extra curves?”

I gave a sigh, wishing Nick could see me in the dress. After our slow dance last night, I’d thought of little else other than his arms around me, his lips at my ear, and the glow in his eyes. He said he didn’t want to talk, and though his request left my bellychurning, I couldn’t argue or blame him. I just had to be content with the opportunity to hold him close.

Recalling the feel of his body next to mine, I closed my eyes. With the movement of the bus and the engine’s throbbing, it felt like someone had tied weights to my lashes, and within minutes, I drifted into a light sleep.

After a time, muffled voices roused me. I woke up to see a group of bodies mingling in the snow outside the window. The inside of the bus had come to life, with the few passengers gathering their belongings and moving down the central aisle. With a furrowed brow, I grabbed my dress bag and followed a gray-haired lady, shuffling along the sticky floor. As I climbed down the steps, the cold bit into my jacket and the snow laid thick around my boots.

“What’s going on?” I asked the driver.

He stood at the door, hands on his hips. “With all the snow, the bus ain’t going nowhere tonight, miss. We’ll have to stay here until they clear the road.”

He gestured over his shoulder at a dimly lit inn nestled in the trees. The ornate sign bore the name,The Pines Lodge

I shook my head. “Stay here? Like overnight?”

“We have to. The drifts blocked the road both above and below us. Short of finding a flying sleigh and reindeer, I’d say we’re snowed in.”

I dropped my jaw. “But it’s Christmas!”

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