Heating up the Holidays

“That I’m an idiot.” She framed his face between her palms. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I do care about you. So much it scares me. In the interest of full disclosure, I need to tell you I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Ever.”

Brad closed his eyes for several seconds, letting the relief rushing through him wash away the pain and hurt that had been crushing his chest. “In the interest of full disclosure, I can only say I’m really glad and relieved that it’s not just me.”

She rested one hand on his chest, right over the spot where his heart thudded hard and fast. “When I made the mistake with the order…I felt everything I’d been fighting for and working so hard for slipping away and I panicked. I believed the only solution was to push you away. So I did. And nothing, ever, made me more unhappy.”

He brushed his thumbs over her wet cheeks then leaned down and kissed her very gently. “I’m glad.”

“That I was unhappy?”

“Yes. Because if you’d been happy, then you wouldn’t be here right now.”

She considered, then nodded. “True. In that case I’ll forgive you for being glad I was sad.”

His lips twitched. “Thank you.” Then Brad sobered. “I owe you an apology, too. I know I was rushing things, pushing you, and I’m sorry. I tried not to, but Toni…everything with you just felt so…right. But I can back off. We’ll take things as slowly as you want. And you can have as much time as you need. You’re worth the wait.”

She laid her hand against his cheek. “Thank you. But I’ve realized I don’t want or need time. Yesterday, when you asked me what I wanted for my life outside Blooming Pails-the question startled me. Made me realize I hadn’t allowed myself to think about anything other than my business. So I took some time and thought about it. And I realized I want companionship. With someone honest and kind. I want someone to share my life and hopes and dreams with. Someone to laugh with. Someone who makes me feel needed. Wanted. Who I need and want.” She stroked her fingers over his stubbled jaw. “Turns out that except for the firefighter thing, you are exactly what I want. And it turns out, I can live with the firefighter thing.”

Heat, and something else, something deeper, glowed in his eyes. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that.”

“And I want you to know that I would have come to my senses eventually-like by the end of the day. I was halfway there already. But when I heard about the injured firefighters, it made me realize right then and there that I’d been-”

“An idiot?”

“Yes.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to rub my nose in that?”

He smiled at her disgruntled expression. “Nah. I’m just glad you figured it out sooner rather than later.” He leaned in for another kiss, one he meant to be light, but that quickly turned into a passionate, tongue-dancing exchange. When he lifted his head, they were both breathing hard.

“Brad…what would you say if I asked if it’s possible to fall in love in a week?”

Happiness filled all the spaces inside him that only yesterday had been rendered numb. “I’d say that since you’re asking a guy who fell in love three months ago in the span of about one minute, yeah, a week is definitely possible.”

Her gaze searched his. “If the invitation is still open, I’d like to join you and your family for Christmas dinner.”

His heart performed a somersault-like maneuver. “The invitation is still open,” he assured her. “But they’re going to think you’re my girlfriend.”

“Which is better than what you’d get from my family. You’d be interrogated by my mother, sister and Nana like a murder suspect, and be on the receiving end of multiple death stares from my brothers.”

“No problem. I don’t scare easily.”

“So I’ve noticed. Just one of the things I love about you.” She smiled. “One of the many things. And about your family thinking I’m your girlfriend…I’d like to be. If you’ll have me, in spite of the crazy hours I’ll need to put in at Blooming Pails until who-knows-when.”

“If I’ll have you? If I’ll have you?” He picked her up and twirled her around until she squealed. After setting her back on her feet, he grabbed her hand and led her into the kitchen. “If I’ll have you?” he repeated, shaking his head. “Crazy woman.” He opened the drawer where he kept his receipts and sifted through several pieces of paper before finding what he wanted.

“Take a look at this, Miss If-You’ll-Have-Me.”

“What is it?”

“Something I wrote after our first ‘one little dinner.’ I’d mentioned my Christmas list, so the next day, I actually wrote one.” He handed her the paper.

“‘My Grown-up Christmas List,’” she read. Then her eyes widened. “The only thing on this list is my name.”

“Twenty times,” he agreed. “’Cause all I wanted for Christmas was you.”

A smile bloomed across her face. “Be careful what you wish for, Mr. December. Looks like you’re getting it.”

“That’s because I’m on Santa’s nice list.” He swung her up into his arms and headed toward his bedroom. “But what would you say if I told you I’m also on his naughty list?”

She smiled into his eyes. “I’d say I’m a very, very lucky girl.”

UP ON THE HOUSETOP by Jamie Sobrato

To Mom

Prologue

A village near Mombasa, Kenya

THE FIRE glowed brightly in the darkness, crackling and filling the air with the scent of burning wood. Lorelei could have become mesmerized by it so easily, the same way she might have been entranced by a television screen back in the U.S. at night after a long day of work.

But tonight, it only warmed her. The storytellers had long since finished spinning their tales, the drummers had retired to their cots and the last vestiges of the evening’s gathering had trickled away.

Next to her, a gnarled old man who had most unexpectedly become one of her closest friends in the past few years was looking at her as if he could see her soul. She squirmed uncomfortably, because, she feared, he really could.

“You must go home now,” Kinsei said in his heavily accented English.

They had been trading her English language instruction for his knowledge of herbal medicine ever since Lorelei had first come to Kenya. It had started as her way of smoothing out the relationship between her, the local Peace Corps doctor, and him, the local medicine man.

“I’m not sure I’m ready to go back to the U.S.”

“Not America. I mean, you must go to your home. Where your family is. The place of your coming into this world.”

A wave of nausea nearly overcame Lorelei, not just at the thought of going back to her hometown, but because Kinsei was eerily, against all her scientific logic, always right. The few times she’d dared to contradict his advice,