Mistletoe Magic (A Holiday Romance Novel Book 2) Page 15
Standing up, she blew out a large breath and stomped out of the dark living room to the kitchen.
She did the right thing. Nothing would ever work out between her and Aiden. Being friends would have to be okay. He agreed, so she just had to believe she made the right decision.
As best as she could, she had to avoid mistletoes when he was near. Because apparently, even as friends, they would kiss.
Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe she could seduce him—
No. She wasn’t that kind of woman. She didn’t seduce men. If he couldn’t love her on his own, she wouldn’t force the issue.
Grabbing a bag of pretzels to binge on, she walked to her bedroom and situated herself onto the bed. Eating her troubles away couldn’t be a bad thing if she ate something somewhat healthy. Within a few minutes, her mind tried to center on her romance novel as she nibbled on pretzels.
She would stop thinking about Aiden. Nothing good would come from thinking about him anyway. He was working. It’s not like he was thinking about her.
❄
“I am so glad that shit is done. Don’t ever ask me to help you again.”
Aiden chuckled as he walked Bentley to the door. “I hope I never screw up this badly again to ask for your help.” The smile on his face dimmed. “If this even works.”
Bentley’s hand stalled on the door handle. “It will. She’ll love it. Just don’t ask me to do something like this ever again. It just ain’t right.” He chuckled.
“Maybe you should make a big grand gesture to Daphne. Show her what man she should be with. Fair is fair. I’ll help you.”
Bentley’s lips twisted in frustration and angst. “I think I should just start to move on from thinking about her anymore. If she’s happy, then I’m happy for her.” His brows dipped low. “I just don’t get her boyfriend. If it was me, I would’ve had a ring on her finger already. Two years, man. Way too long.”
Aiden hated when Bentley said that. Because it made him think of Cynthia and how long he waited—for everything.
“Maybe he doesn’t want to marry her. Maybe there’s a reason he hasn’t asked.”
“She’s amazing. Why wouldn’t he want to marry her? He’s an idiot. Any man who waits that long is one.”
It’s as if Bentley punched him hard in the face. He couldn’t dispute the words. He was an idiot. He should’ve ended his relationship with Cynthia long before it got as far as it did.
“I waited…a long time. In fact, I didn’t even ask Cynthia. She just said we were getting married and that was that.”
Bentley’s hand dropped from the door. “Yeah, she had a way about her sometimes.”
“She…uh…”
Although Bentley was his best friend, he didn’t always share every little thing with him. Especially about Cynthia. He didn’t want to appear like a wimp, or a loser, or someone who was controlled easily, even though he felt like all three of those things when he was with her.
A sigh escaped as Bentley shrugged. “Cynthia was…”
“Controlling. I let her control me. I let her plan my life when it wasn’t something I wanted. I never asked her to marry me because I didn’t want to. I never let her set a wedding date because I dreaded marrying her. I…I broke our engagement the night of her accident. That’s why…”
A hand grasped his shoulder in a comforting embrace. A signal of understanding. “That’s why you’ve struggled so much with her death. I had a feeling you weren’t happy with her. Then…you seemed so torn up, I figured I imagined it. It’s because you feel guilty, isn’t it?”
“She would’ve never been driving that night if we hadn’t been fighting. You know her when she got in a mood. She was hysterical and crying and she just rushed out of the house…” He shook his head in agony as he lowered his gaze to the floor. It was so difficult to say. But strangely, he felt lighter each time he said it, which made it a little easier every time he opened his mouth. He just might have to thank Chief Duncan for making him talk, because the more he talked about it, the lighter he felt inside. The darkness was slowly ebbing away.
“That shit isn’t your fault, man. She made her own choices.” Bentley squeezed his shoulder hard to get his point across. “And now you found a woman that makes you happy. I know she does because I can see my friend coming back from the dead. For a while there, I didn’t think I’d ever see the real you again. I’m almost tempted to buy Theresa the best Christmas present ever for giving me back my best friend.”
His head shot up. “I have been horrible. But no more. I promise. I still feel responsible for her death, but—”
“Don’t.” Bentley shook his head. “Don’t let her control you even in death, man. That’s what’s happening. Just let it all go. Focus on Theresa. Focus on you, for once.”
No truer words were ever spoken. He even tried to tell himself not to let Cynthia control him beyond the grave. It wasn’t something he could just stop at a moment’s notice. It’d take time. But time wasn’t on his side right now. He needed to shove those thoughts away. Far away. He needed to win Theresa’s heart. His plan had to work.
“I’d ask if you want to hang out tomorrow since we both have off, but…I hope your plan for Theresa works.”
“Me, too. Wish me luck.”
Bentley glanced down the hallway to everything they set up and smiled. “I don’t think you’re going to need any luck. Who knew you were such a romantic? I guess only Theresa knows how to pull that out of you.”
So much truth in those words. He never did romantic gestures with Cynthia. Ever. Everything he did today, everything he planned to do, was new to him. So he hoped he was doing the right thing. What the hell did him, or even Bentley, know about romance?
“Are you going to call her tonight?”
Aiden pulled his phone out of his pocket and cringed. “It’s kind of late. She might not appreciate me knocking on her door at ten o’clock. What do you think?”
“Wait until tomorrow. Plan a whole day for her. Women like sweet shit like that.”
Bentley turned toward the door, opened it, then paused in the doorway when his phone beeped a loud siren.
“What the hell is that?”
“A text message from the station. That only goes off when there’s a big fire to handle.” Bentley pulled his phone out of his pocket, swiping a finger across the screen. The frown that pierced his lips concerned Aiden.
“Do they need you? Where’s the fire at?”
Bentley’s eyes turned from the phone to him, an air of panic written in the depths. “Shit, man. I think it’s Theresa’s house.”
Chapter 16
Large orange flames sparked across the dark night. The entire drive he sat in the passenger seat of Bentley’s truck, stoic and quiet. He lost one woman to anger and pain, and now he was losing another.
The fire chief didn’t report much in the text besides a location and the status of the fire. By the way Bentley started running for his truck, he knew the status was bad. He was one step behind him, slamming his way in the passenger side. He didn’t even stop to grab a jacket from the closet.
Bentley knew better than to speak. And really, what could he say? Theresa’s house was in flames. Why? Was she okay?
They saw the first flash of orange a mile away. It tore through his gut, ripping it to shreds within seconds. Eyeing that from such a distance told him one thing. The entire house was engulfed in flames. Did she make it out safely?
The truck jerked to a hard stop behind a row of patrol vehicles and fire trucks down Theresa’s lane. It was a narrow street, her house the last one. So far the fire hadn’t jumped to the neighboring houses. Perhaps the snow and cold weather could be thanked for that. He had no clue. He just needed to know Theresa made it out safely.
Suddenly, his emotions sprang loose. All his horror and terror hearing those few words broke free like a wild lion running rampant through a zoo beyond its cage. He pushed the truck door open hard and started running towards the hea
vy flames dancing in the night sky.
He didn’t stop to think about what he was doing. He didn’t question the stupidity of running into a burning building. His legs just stretched as far as they could with each step that took him closer to the house that held the woman he loved.
Without warning, a large body tackled him from behind, slamming them brutally to the ground. The cold, wet pavement barely registered as he struggled with the heavy body above him. He didn’t even care who knocked him down. His only thought was to save the woman he loved. He needed Theresa in his life like he needed to take his next breath. She was vital to his survival. He’d never recover if he lost her, especially like this.
“Get off me!”
“Calm the hell down, Aiden!”
He should’ve known. Bentley had his arms wrapped tightly around his middle, holding him face down to the ground. They both played on the high school football team. While he had been the quarterback, Bentley had played the linebacker position. They had both been stars on the team.
“Let me go. I need to get in there.”
Bentley’s voice was low and measured. “No one’s going in there. It’s not safe. The fire…it’s everywhere, man. Let’s ask if she got out before you go crazy. Calm down. Please.”
He was about to fight for his life, jabbing an elbow, kicking a leg, hell, get a bite in somewhere to break free of the hold he had on him when a stern, yet even voice said, “She’s safe. Let him up, Bentley.”
The arms around him disappeared. He turned slightly to see Chief Duncan standing before him with a hand outstretched. He took his hand without complaint, letting him help him up. Chief Duncan didn’t release his hand as soon as he stood to his full height, almost tightening his grip as he pulled him a bit closer.
“She’s shaken up. She has some smoke inhalation, a cut on her arm, but otherwise she’s fine. They took her to the hospital.” He tried to break the grip, but Chief Duncan increased the pressure even more, refusing to let go. “I’ll drive you myself. But Bentley’s right. Calm down. She’s okay.”
“I’m calm.”
Chief Duncan grinned. “Now you are. You almost ran right into a burning building without thinking. Don’t make me do something I’d hate to do.”
He didn’t even want to know what that meant, so instead of asking, he nodded that he would stay calm. At least, he hoped so. As soon as he could see Theresa’s face for himself that she was safe, he could relax. The longer that took, well, he couldn’t guarantee anything.
Glancing around, he realized Bentley had rushed to one of the fire trucks, putting his gear on to help extinguish the beast blazing before them.
Chief Duncan loosened his grip, then let his hand go, slapping a hand to his shoulder to move him along. “Let’s go. I know you want to see her.”
“Did you see her?”
“No. The fire chief relayed the news to me because it was the first thing I asked when I arrived.”
“Then how do you know she’s okay? She could be—”
The hand on his shoulder increased in strength. “I said to stay calm. Take slow, deep breaths if you have to. The fire chief said she’s okay. If he said that, I believe him.”
Yeah, well, he didn’t hold that same belief. He’d only believe it with his own eyes. He needed to see her right this instant.
The drive to the hospital was the longest drive of his life. Almost longer than the drive to her house. He noticed the chief was dressed up nicely in a suit. He must’ve dashed out of the Christmas party when he heard the news about the fire, which he figured the news spread very quickly. The fire was so big, they probably saw it from the hotel, the flames dancing in the dark sky.
The minute the chief pulled into a spot in the emergency room parking lot, he dashed out of the car. The voice echoing in the distance to stay calm didn’t slow him down as he charged through the door and to the front desk. He nearly sent a stack of papers sitting on the ledge to the floor.
Erin, the nurse by the desk, had quick hands as she grabbed them before they tumbled to the floor.
“Officer Crowl? Are you—”
“Where is she? Theresa Brennen. I need to see her. Where is she?”
Erin took a step back, probably because he shouted the words at her instead just asking in a nice, relaxed voice.
“She’s in—”
“He doesn’t need to know yet.”
His eyes narrowed at Chief Duncan. “You have no right.”
“You’re losing it, Aiden. Do you hear yourself? Do you know how you just spoke to Erin? You can’t go into her room until you calm down. You’re going to scare her. Right now, Theresa doesn’t need that.”
Shit. The chief was right, of course. He just didn’t know how to stop the raging energy coursing through his veins. All he knew was he needed to see her face. He needed to see she was okay. He knew with one look into her eyes he would calm down.
The angry twist of his face didn’t scare the chief into giving in. It did nothing but increase his rage at the delay. He needed to see her. Now. He was getting so upset he was ready to charge at the chief and take him to the ground for keeping him away from Theresa.
He figured the chief knew it, too, as he braced his feet wider apart, getting ready for the hit. His eyes caught the slight movement in the chief’s hands. A nervous twitch.
Suddenly, he bent and shoved his head between his legs, trying to breathe in and out in a steady, calm manner. It was hard as hell.
What was he doing? Why was he acting like a maniac? He knew this wasn’t easy for the chief. It’s not as if Chief Duncan spoke about it, but he saw the torture he went through when his mother had cancer. The dread that would cross his face to visit her again in the hospital, yet he did it faithfully every day until the day she succumbed to the terrible disease. The chief hated the hospital. Yet, here he stood with him, offering him comfort and preventing him from scaring the hell out of Theresa. Which he would if he walked into her room like a half-raged banshee.
It took a few seconds, or maybe it was minutes, to control his breathing. Slow, deep breaths released, helping him to find the composure he lacked since learning about the fire.
He stood back up and blew out another deep breath. His gaze went to Erin first. “I apologize for my behavior. It was inexcusable.”
She smiled lightly. “It’s not easy when someone you care about is injured. I understand. Are you ready?” Although she asked him the question, her eyes darted to Chief Duncan when she said it.
“Do you want me to walk with you?”
Aiden declined the chief’s offer. He just wanted to hold Theresa in his arms, no prying eyes on them.
Well, if she even let him do that. What kind of reception would he receive? It didn’t matter. He didn’t think he’d be able to keep his hands to himself.
When he walked into the room and saw Theresa sitting up in bed, a large white bandage across her forearm, he nearly lost it and the composure he worked so hard to restore out in the lobby of the hospital.
Tears filled her eyes at the sight of him. He didn’t stop to think, to hesitate, to do anything but make the few steps it took to get to her side and pull her into his arms. She accepted him with ease and sank her head to his chest. Light tears sprinkled onto his shirt right away.
She was safe. His eyes finally confirmed it, which meant his heart could slow down. Yet, it didn’t. Because he had so much to say. So much he needed to tell her. He decided to start with the most important thing.
“I love you, Theresa.” His embrace tightened. “I love you so damn much.”
❄
The tears became heavier at his admission. He loved her. She couldn’t believe it. Maybe she misheard.
The sound of his soft voice repeating his whispered words of love confirmed how much he loved her, that she wasn’t mishearing a thing. He couldn’t seem to stop saying it. She wasn’t about to impede his speech of love, which honestly just consisted of him saying over and over I love you. It was
enough for her. It’s as if a miracle occurred. She never thought she’d hear those three little words from him.
Would he still love her when she told him who started the fire? Would that love survive her confession?
She needed to get herself together. She needed to tell him and then watch him walk out of the room with disgust. He would. She wanted to walk out, because she loathed herself.
Her tears stopped as the icky feeling in her stomach overwhelmed any other emotion trying to escape. Even after her eyes dried of tears, he still didn’t let go of her. Instead of fighting him, she just soaked up his warm embrace, imagining she wouldn’t have it as soon as they started to talk.
Then, to her dismay, he lowered his arms in a smooth stroke down her back and pulled away, cupping her chin. A light kiss brushed across her lips. She savored every little touch he was willing to give her.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, afraid to speak. Afraid everything would come tumbling out and then her world would crumble.
“I nearly…I almost…” He kissed her lips again, harder this time.
She opened to him, letting him soothe her rattled nerves with the flick of his tongue against hers. The anxiety threatening to climb out of her skin slowly dimmed as his sweet, strong kiss pushed it away.
Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t know anything. How did you get out? Talk to me.”
Like that, the stress level skyrocketed to the roof. She couldn’t have his arms around her as she told him. She wouldn’t be able to bear the pain when he eventually shoved her away in revulsion. So she did it first, pushing him away.
He looked confused, but stood up from the bed. He didn’t back away, though.
“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about anything right now. Do you need to stay for observation? The chief said something about smoke inhalation. At least tell me that.”
He looked so pained about everything, it made her heart hurt with so much agony.
“I didn’t inhale much. My throat doesn’t hurt or anything.” She didn’t want to talk about it, but delaying the inevitable never worked out. It would be better if she got the worst part over with. “I decided to get ready for bed. I opened my bedroom door to go to the kitchen for some water and all this smoke just hit my face. I thought about running through it to get outside, but then I saw the fire at the edge of the hallway. I had to break my bedroom window and climb out that way because I couldn’t get the lock to budge. I cut my arm on the way out.” She lifted her arm with the bandage wrapped around it.