Chapter 23
Jake had played golf with presidents, stared down his competition in the heartbeat before the final light flashed, and once skated past a five-car pileup with less than a blink to spare. But walking into Ben’s house, which would be full of sugar-charged kids, while wearing his World Champion smile?
Easy as swiping cookies off Santa’s plate.
Only he didn’t think that Georgia was going to have as easy of a time getting through the evening.
She gazed at the night’s sky, head tilted so far back that lazy snowflakes glistened in the reflection of her eyes. The flakes looked small at first until he realized just how fast the snowbank at the base of the front porch was rising.
Georgia stood beside him, shifting her weight like she was debating whether to bolt or knock on the door.
“You okay?” He kept his voice low, so low it was nearly eaten up by the blanketed quiet. He’d learned a long time ago that when it came to Georgia and her feelings, it was better to ease into the throttle instead of forcing it.
“I’m so fine I could splice hairs,” she said, eyes glued to the Christmas wreath with white flickering lights.
“That’s what people say right before they’re not fine.”
Her gaze flickered at him, half amused, half terrified. “Since when did you become an amateur therapist?”
“Not amateur.” He leaned back on the porch rail and crossed one ankle over the other. “I’ve got a master’s in reading people. Pit crews, other drivers… my grandpa after a Hallmark binge.”
That got a chuckle, but it was as light and fragile as frost on a windowpane.
“This is my job, Jake. I’ve done it hundreds of times before.”
“Darlin’, none of those kids were like Connor. And none of them had spina bifida.”
“Maybe.” That was as close to a yes as he was going to get.
She sent him a sharp glance. The kind of glance that said he’d crossed the line but not in a way she’d actually tell him to back off.
“I can handle it,” she added.
“I know you can.” And she could. The woman could hold her own in any storm. “There isn’t much you can’t handle. But it might be nice to have someone to shoulder this with. I’ve got big shoulders. And you know what they say about big shoulders.”
She snorted.
“If you need an out, I’ll just tell everyone you had to go check on Santa’s sleigh.”
“And you call me sappy?”
“Don’t spread it around,” Jake said, giving her a slow, dangerous smile. “The guys in the pit will start calling me princess.”
A snowflake landed on her cheek, and without thinking, he brushed it away with his thumb. Her breath caught. Jake’s might have too, but no way was he admitting it. She was still spooked about their conversation yesterday; he didn’t want her to close up entirely.
“You ready?” he asked.
She hesitated, then, “No.”
He reached out, fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her skin was warm beneath the touch, and suddenly everything else felt distant, like they were the only two people on earth.
She let out the softest moan he’d ever heard when their lips met. Tender, like something that had been building quietly between them since the night when they’d slept together. Like their bodies had been waiting for this moment to catch fire.
He memorized the curve of her mouth, the way her fingers curled against his Henley. He could hold on to her—just like this—forever, in the middle of a snow-filled night that suddenly felt like it was made just for two.
When they finally pulled apart, she smiled that shy, breathless smile that made him want to kiss her all over again.
“Better?”
She gave a nod and knocked on the door. Immediately it opened and the warm scent of cinnamon and cocoa spilled out into the cold.
He slyly smacked her right butt cheek, nudging her forward.
“What was that?” she said under her breath.
“Just keeping things interesting.”
“You’re here,” Benjaman’s mother said on a breath. She wore some kind of red velvet dress with a necklace made of blinking tree lights and dark spots of sorrow under her eyes that expressed her disbelief—as if she hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up too high only to be let down. Again.
Jake knew that smile. He’d watched a brave Georgia wear it time and again when they’d been together. Never in front of anyone but him. Which is why he knew that if he turned around he’d see her hiding it again.
Georgia stepped forward and let a gentle smile warm her face. She took Nadine’s hands and squeezed them. “I broke a promise once to someone I loved and vowed to never let that happen again.”
“Thank you.” They held on to each other as if afraid that if they let go the moment of understanding would vanish. “Dear me. You must think I’m a horrible host. I’m Nadine.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m—”
“Jake Evans. I know. I only hear your name shouted around my house daily. I am so grateful you made it. I know the holidays are for being with family—”
“And tonight, you and Ben are our family,” he assured her. “Now, where is the man of the hour?”
“He’s in the front room with his cousins, rewatching the highlights of when you won in Germany.” That had been the last time he’d placed first this season. And if he didn’t figure out what was going on, second might be the place he finds himself again.
She wrung her hands. “I had no idea if you’d make it, so he has no clue. If you want me to introduce you…”
Jake grinned. “I got this. I’m practically an honorary uncle in three countries.”
Georgia rolled her eyes but followed him in. The second they stepped into the family room a cluster of little faces whipped toward them like they’d heard sleigh bells. Ben was in the middle, frozen mid–eggnog sip, his eyes going huge.
It took everything Jake had not to drop to his knees and cry on the spot. Ben reminded him so much of Connor. The oval face, the hopeful blue eyes, the underdeveloped body.
It was uncanny and heart-wrenching.
Pull it together, man. Today is about Ben, not your feelings.
“Hey, champ,” Jake called, giving him a two-finger salute. “Heard you’re the fastest kid in town.”
The boy didn’t speak. Just sat there in an F1 decorated wheelchair looking as if Santa had just come down the chimney.
“Holy shit,” someone said.
Jake turned around and saw a man he assumed was Ben’s dad.
“Sorry, you just look like Jake Evans,” the man said.
“Dan,” Nadine said, embarrassment tingeing her cheeks. “This is Jake Evans.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jake said and before he could shake the man’s hand, he heard the telltale sound of an electric wheelchair speeding over hardwood.
Jake looked behind him and saw a kid racing toward him, the driver a ten-year-old brown-headed kid with freckles and a smile so large, Jake thought his face might split. “Holy shit!”
“Language,” his mom said with zero heat.
“But Mom, it’s Jake Evans.”
“You are allowed to say it just this once.”
“Holy shit,” Ben yelled again. Jake already liked this kid. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard someone was having a birthday.”
Ben looked at his mom. “Can I say it one more time?”
Nadine smiled. “Only because it’s your birthday and—”
“Jake fucking Evans is here,” Dan added. “In my house.”
With a toss of the hands, Nadine gave up. “Would either of you like anything to drink?”
Jake dropped to a knee, so he was eye level with Ben, and the Santa hat Georgia had given him flopped over one eyebrow. “Is there still hot chocolate, or did the elves drink it all?”
Ear-piercing squeals followed Georgia and Nadine into the kitchen. She watched Nadine walk over to the table and collapse in a chair. Head between her hands, she sat very still.
Georgia knew not to ask if she was okay, because she knew she wasn’t. The highs were as intense as the lows. And when you were emotionally beaten over a long period of time it was hard for the body to tell the difference.
After a long, thick moment, Nadine straightened. “I’m sorry. This is all just so—”
“Overwhelming?”
“Yes,” Nadine said on a laugh.
“I get it,” Georgia said. “My brother, Connor, had spina bifida.”
“Had?”
“He passed away a long time ago, but it only feels like yesterday.”
Nadine gave a solemn nod. “Does the pain fade?”
“Yes, but it never goes away, clinging to you like an old friend,” she said, knowing that it was what Nadine needed to hear in that moment, instead of what advice she’ll need on the other side of Ben’s death.
“I guess it would,” Nadine said with a watery smile. She walked over to the stove where a big batch of cocoa was simmering.
“Would you like some?”
“Would I like some?” Georgia said teasingly.
Nadine filled up two mugs, stopping halfway to the top. She reached into the cabinet above the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of peppermint vodka.
“Spice or no spice?”
Georgia smiled. “Lots of spice.”
“I knew we’d be friends.” Nadine handed her a mug and the two sat at the table. “Can I ask a question?”
And here it goes, she thought. Better cut it off at the start. “We’re just friends.”
“Oh.” Nadine bit back a smile. “I was going to ask you about your job. But if you want to talk boy talk, I’m here to listen.”
If it were as simple as boy talk, Georgia would have RSVP’d to the party. But her problem was a man problem.
“What about my job?”
Nadine laughed but allowed for the subject change. “How do you do this?”
“Because I know how tiring it is to make your kid’s every day special. I became a pro and figured that I was given this gift so I can take the weight for other people. Even if for just a day.”
“But to do it over and over again. Does it get easier?”
“It depends on the wish. A lot of times I only facilitate the wish and the celebrity does the appearance on their own.”
“And with this particular wish?”
“This celebrity required a hand-holder.”
Nadine snorted up cocoa. “I’d bet half the women in the surrounding three counties would pay their every last dollar to be his hand-holder.”
“Not to mention half the men.”
“Heck, my husband would probably sell me for the chance.”
Georgia let out a puff of amusement. “Ben might fight him for the job.”