Page 3 of Can't Miss Christmas

Yes, the crowd! She had books to sign, children to meet who were waiting for her despite the treacherous weather. She had no time for pesky but handsome exes.

Philly was her last commitment before taking off for the holiday, and it was an important one. She was the headliner at a book signing and party tomorrow at the Children’s Hospital. People were counting on her to show up, and she would do anything not to disappoint a child, much less an ill one. After that, she would fake her way through enjoying the holiday with her half sister and her family until she could get back to her apartment in New York.

“Graham.” Dammit, she hadn’t meant to sound like that, breathy and surprised and even a little relieved, as if she’d been waiting for him—which she absolutely hadnotbeen, even though she knew he often did business in Boston, and she’d wondered deep in her mind if maybe he’d show…

But that was ridiculous. She’d gotten over any sense of comfort his presence used to bring. She’d succeeded all on her own these past two years. There were just so many leftover feelings. It would just take time.The holidays are always hard, she reminded herself. She would get through this one just like she had all the others, even though her family, unlike his, left a lot to be desired.

“I’m sure I can rent a car,” she told him. “Thanks anyway.” She could not drive with him. That would be catastrophic. Not to mention uncomfortable. She’d pass on the ride, thanks very much.

“I’ll call for a rental, if that’s what you want,” Monica said, eyeballing Graham, like nearly every woman on the planet. With thick, wavy hair, strong, handsome features, and dressed in work clothes and a wool coat that fit him like a glove, he was a gorgeous man. Grace didn’t blame Monica for looking. But that didn’t stop her from feeling like the most popular girl in school was attempting to take her prom date home.

“Sure, that would be great,” Grace said, then flicked her gaze in what she hoped was a casual, friendly manner back to Graham. “Thanks for the offer. It was kind of you.”

Kind. He didn’t look kind, he looked feral. She perused his thick hair, cut in a businesslike style but which sat just on the edge of unruly, and his thick brows that were, at the moment, so deeply knit they cast an air of danger over his face. The steely set of his jaw was offset by a dimple that only showed when he smiled, which wasn’t often, thank God. His deep brown eyes were boring through her, like they had in the old days, filled with so much unspoken emotion, it took her breath away.

Intense dislike, that was what it was. She’d been despondent after they’d lost their son. It had taken a while to figure out she’d been suffering from postpartum depression. But by then, Graham had started working more and more. Grief had torn them apart, and they hadn’t been able to find their way back to one another.

“You look—you look well,” she said. Oh God. That might’ve been the stupidest thing she’d ever said.

“You too,” he said, never taking his eyes off her.

Truth was, he looked like sin. Like every fantasy she’d ever had. He lookedamazing. After all they’d been through, how could she still feel the tug of him so strongly?

“Well, I’ll be going, then. Great to see you, Grace.” He cast her one last glance she felt clear through to her toes before he turned to go. Everything they’d left unsaid felt as heavy as a winter wool blanket.

“Graham, wait. Let me sign a book—for Emmy.” She loved his little niece and knew she was a big fan because Emmy wrote her letters and told her so. In them, she also expressed her disappointment in their divorce. Grace couldn’t fix that for her, but she could keep her stocked in books as best she could.

He was already walking away and didn’t seem to hear. Disappointment rifled through her. Outside the windows, snow was coming down in furious swirls and driving flurries, as chaotic as her thoughts. She took a big breath, trying to channel calmness.

Monica was back, looking at her phone and frowning. “No rental cars available. Only compact models.”

“Amtrak? Greyhound? Private driver?” Grace asked.

“Excuse me,” a familiar voice said. Grace looked up, startled, to find Graham back at her side. The light touch of his hand on her elbow seared clear through to her skin. “Just come with me,” he said to Grace in his usual firm, confident way, not letting go. “Despite everything that’s happened between us, you can still trust me to keep my word. I’ll get you to Philly on time.”

“Grace, you’re welcome to ride out the storm with my family,” Monica said, darting a contrary glance at Graham. “My folks would love having you. You can travel to Philly right after Christmas, when the weather calms down.”

Grace looked past Monica to Graham, who wore his usual stoic expression. At one time, she’d trusted him with everything—her hopes and dreams, her greatest fears, her deepest sorrows. But all that had been eroded, and they rarely even spoke to each other now except when they had to.

Maybe going with him now could enable them to mend some of the hurt between them. Maybe fate was giving them an opportunity to smooth over some of the sharp edges of their relationship.

Lest she get too mushy, surely after they spent a few hours together, reality would set in. She’d remember all the reasons they’d divorced, instead of everything getting muddled and blurred by the intense bodily reaction he still stirred in her.

Either way, she could survive anything for five hours, and she’d get to Philly on time. The extra bonus was that he was a confident and experienced driver in bad weather. “It’s okay,” she said to Monica. “I’ll ride with Graham.”

Something flashed in his eyes. Maybe he felt a little triumphant, or perhaps just glad of the rare opportunity to torture her for five hours straight. Or maybe he felt the same nagging pull she did, to make amends and to heal old wounds. After all, that was what Christmas was for.

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