You for Christmas Read online

  He slid his glasses on and pointed. “That one.”

  The squat tree scarcely reached her thigh. “You want to just buy a pine needle, is that what you’re saying? That one.”

  Refusal settled in the hard line of his jaw as he looked up to behold its full height.

  Okay, so they were destined to disagree.

  “I know. Come on.” And she strode off, not looking at the pines, but making a beeline for the tall gums at the base of the hill. She could hear Felix following and said over her shoulder, “We need a vantage point. Then we can see them all.”

  “They all look the same from a distance.”

  “Exactly. So we’ll agree on one and no matter what it looks like up close, we have to get it.”

  “Ah.” He didn’t sound convinced as she reached the gum and hauled herself onto the bottom branch. Not high enough, so she used a slim branch as a step, stretched her arms overhead, and pulled herself up to the next. Perfect. She settled and shifted out so there was enough room for Felix between her and the trunk, then peered down at where he was resolutely looking the other way.

  Oh yeah. She was wearing a skirt.

  “Coming?” she called down.

  “Uh.” His climb was more awkward, a grunt here and a slipped foot there, but then he was shifting in beside her, thigh pressing against hers, his legs swinging through empty air. “Reckon the branch will snap?”

  “In ten, nine, eight...”

  His glance was dry. “Your calming tactics need work.”

  “Not a people person, remember? And you’re not a tree climber.”

  “Sure I am,” he said. “Press spacebar to jump and I’m up in a flash.”

  She snorted, somehow finding that endearing. “I don’t count virtual activities. Pick a tree.”

  He hummed, pointing a finger into the heart of the hillside.

  “Oh, that’ll be easy to find,” she murmured, before bending in close, her shoulder pressing against his as she tried to follow his line of vision. “There?”

  Then she couldn’t follow much of anything as he leaned down, bringing them cheek-to-cheek.

  “No.” The slight rasp of his close shave sent a tremble to her toes, knotting her stomach on its way down. She pressed back, just a little, keeping him close. “Six back. Taller than the one in front of it, shorter than the one behind.”

  “Ohhh.” She wasn’t looking anymore.

  Her eyes were downcast, ranging over his thighs and the substantial weight at his crotch. Desire pulled down inside her, knowing if she angled her head, just a little, her lips would meet the corner of his mouth, and slowly, cautiously, he would turn into the kiss, mouth parting, raising a hand to her cheek. If she swayed, she might be forced to grasp his muscled thigh for balance. It’d be beyond her control if her hand slipped into bulkier territory. She would feel him, taste him, as the summer sun beat on their backs.

  “Do you see it?” Felix’s voice was gravelly.

  “Yeah.” She didn’t look up from his lap. She saw it all right.

  His cheek lifted against hers. “Describe it.”

  “Uh,” she said, and mentally thanked whoever chose that moment to call his phone. Her body ached for his touch, the warmth of his lips—but giving in to that would be foolish. As if she needed something else to mess up and making a move on Felix would be disastrous. She tore the ache in two as she leaned away so he could tug his phone out of his front pocket.

  He stilled, eyes on the screen. “It’s Stevie.”

  Regan’s heart balled up, fast and painful. Oh, God. Stevie was holding a phone to her ear somewhere right now, waiting for her best friend to answer. Almost savagely, she needed to know more about her sister. Was she pacing or sitting? Was she happy or upset or exhausted? Regan wanted to know everything; wanted to picture Stevie and know she saw something close to reality.

  “Can you put her on speakerphone?”

  He looked startled. “You want to talk to her?”

  “No!” She blanched and gripped the tree branch. “I want to hear.”

  After a hesitation, Felix swiped the call and hit the speaker icon. “Hey, hey,” he answered, increasing the speaker volume.

  “Hi. Is it just me or is it really hot already? I’m sweating. Are you sweating?”

  Regan’s pulse pounded. Stevie. She’d forgotten her sister’s voice was low, almost husky. She would have recognized it anywhere, but she hadn’t remembered. How had she forgotten such a simple yet defining characteristic? She held her breath, dismay biting her bottom lip hard.

  Felix glanced at her as he said a confirming, “Definitely sweating.”

  “I feared it was the next stage in my metamorphosis into a tradie. Random sweating. That’s a relief.” The last word was lost to the sound of a small chainsaw. Regan glared out at the farm, searching for the staff member felling a tree. As silence resumed, Stevie said, “Was that—Felix, where are you?”

  “At, um, at a Christmas tree farm.”

  Regan should have expected Felix to be a terrible liar. Just by omitting key facts, he made the truth sound like a lie. There was a significant pause. “Are you actually?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s this thing called Christmas. Some people celebrate it by—”

  She snorted. “Smart arse. You don’t do Christmas trees.”

  “I know, I know,” he said quickly, casting another look at Regan. This one held. “It’ll be dead before Sunday. But I want to win the parking space.”

  “Oh, yeah, that. Good luck.” A dull thud carried down the line, like she’d just put down a heavy pot.

  Or, Regan thought, a paint tin. It was two days before Christmas—was her sister having to work so hard to make ends meet? Emotion boiled inside her, sickened by her own ignorance.

  She’d never believed she’d had a choice but to run away from home. It had been the only surefire way to make it stop. Speaking up had only made it worse. She’d been on the verge of running for over a year, staying only in fear of Stevie copping retribution.

  The moment she’d secured Stevie under Felix’s watch, she’d bolted. Abandoned her sister and hadn’t looked back. Abandoned this woman talking to Felix about sweating and parking spaces, this woman who had only ever tried to understand and been pushed away in return. And now Regan had come back, lonely and seeking companionship, hiding behind Felix because she couldn’t bear to face the significance of what she’d left behind.

  Disgust seeped out into her skin until she felt hot, then cold, all over.

  “So it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow,” Stevie said casually. “What are your plans for Byron?”

  Felix hadn’t stopped watching Regan. His brows were low and she wondered whether she looked as pale as she felt. “I’ll arrive just after lunch. You?”

  “I think we’ll get there after six. Is there a bus from the airport?”

  We, Regan thought numbly, as Felix explained logistics. Her sister had a partner. She prayed suddenly, viciously, that whoever it was loved her with all their might.

  “And when are Jed and Dee getting there?” There was the thud of another tin.

  “Today, I think.” Felix’s discomfort still seeped into his answers.

  “Zach hasn’t said anything, but I know he’s curious to meet them.”

  “I’ll bet,” he said.

  There was another pause. “Look, you’re sounding weird. Have I called while you’re naked or something?”

  “No!”

  “Then what are you really doing?”

  “I’m really getting a Christmas tree.”

  “Yeah, but that in itself is weird.” Her frown came through her words. “What’s going on?”

  Felix’s eyes pleaded with Regan and she shook her head wildly. “There’s just something...unexpected. I’ll have to tell you about it when we get up there, okay?”

  “You’re all right though?” Stevie’s question was strong with concern.

  “I’m al
l right.”

  Her tone suddenly changed. “Oh man, you’re with a woman, aren’t you?”

  “Um,” he answered, and Regan was so distracted by his blush that she momentarily forgot to be anxious.

  “You are! Oh, I get it now. You’re giving her a picture perfect Christmas. You’re so sweet you give me a sugar headache.”

  “Thanks,” he mumbled.

  “Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Hope she’s worth your allergies to that tree.”

  Felix winced as Regan slapped a hand to her forehead. She waited until he’d hung up to exclaim, “Your what?”

  “Nothing, don’t worry about it.” He jammed the phone back into his front pocket and started searching for a way down.

  Regan grabbed his arm, his bicep firm beneath her fingers. “Hey.”

  He exhaled, growing still. Her grip slipped, fingertips running down his arm. A light tremble passed from him to her.

  “Don’t get allergies just for me.”

  “Don’t use the word just to describe yourself. It doesn’t fit,” he said, meeting her eyes in a flash of blue. “You okay after hearing Stevie?”

  She blinked, thrown. “I hate myself for going so long without her voice in my life and I hate that I’m too scared to tell her that I’m here.”

  “But you will.”

  The phone call had cemented that fact. “Yes.”

  “Good. Because I’ve been thinking.”

  Ominous words.

  “You should come to Byron Bay.”

  The offer hit her like a best friend she hadn’t seen in a decade—a hard and tight full-body embrace. Winded, she gripped both the tree branch and Felix’s arm for dear life.

  “No one should be alone on Christmas,” he said, glancing at where she squeezed him.

  “I—couldn’t gatecrash like that.”

  “Like what?” Suddenly he seemed to struggle with a grin. “Like the way you gatecrashed my pre-Christmas wind down?”

  Regan cringed. “Stevie will be there.”

  “Yes.” His intelligent gaze held no mockery. “That’s the idea.”

  “I’d ruin her Christmas.”

  He shook his head. “You’d make it for her, Regan. She’ll hit me for not telling her straight away and I’ll deserve that. But after the shock wears off, she’ll be hard-pressed to hide her joy.”

  But what if he was wrong? Regan battled with the fear that Stevie would turn her away. Estrange her. “I don’t know.”

  “We’d fly out tomorrow. See her in the evening. Time enough to prepare.”

  There was no preparing for this kind of thing. Nerves sloshed in her heart, splashing down into her gut. “Or you can tell her while you’re there, and then she’d have time to get her head around it. And then I’ll see her when she’s back in Melbourne. Then it won’t be taking her by surprise as much. Putting her on the spot, you know?”

  And if it turned out that she never wanted to see Regan again, she wouldn’t have to.

  And Regan wouldn’t have to endure finding that out first-hand.

  “It’s not going to be easy.” He twisted, thigh nudging against hers. Her pulse hitched as she caught a breath of him, soothing and warm.

  Fighting this attraction wasn’t easy either. She was still clutching his arm.

  “If it helps, I can be there when you two reconnect. I can stay as long as you need.”

  She inhaled, frowning. “I think that would help.”

  “Let’s take this one step at a time. First being getting me down from here.”

  “Fee,” she said, softer now. She hooked her ankle around his, reveling in the feel of his hair-roughened skin against hers. “You could have said you get allergies. I don’t need a tree.”

  “But you’d like one. And so I’d like you to have one.”

  She tried not to show how touched she was by that. “Not if you’re going to be sneezing like a sicko.”

  He ran a finger under his nose. “Distinct possibility.”

  “We could set it up on the balcony.”

  “Perfect.”

  Smiling, she released his ankle from hers.

  As Regan watched him clamber down, shirt catching on the trunk and lifting to show his taut stomach, she acknowledged that Stevie was right. Felix was enchantingly sweet, but he took it far beyond the point of giving Regan a headache.

  The ache was irrefutably in her heart.

  Chapter Six

  The prickle in Felix’s sinuses intensified in the car. Regan had asked if she could drive back to his apartment, and privately relieved, he’d handed over the keys and slid into the passenger seat, arm resting across the open window. This way, he wouldn’t have to worry about the watering of his eyes or the sneeze attack that was likely to land any minute. The tang of pine had always assaulted him at Christmas, but the delight he’d caught on Regan’s face as they’d carried the tree to the car was worth it, ten times over.

  “Can you say left every now and then?” she asked, pulling out of the farm. She looked comfortable behind the wheel, sunglasses on and ponytail fanning over her left shoulder. “You know, just so I remember which side of the road to drive on. It’s been a while.”

  Felix pounced. “How long’s a while?”

  “Ah, a probing question.” She shot him a steady sidelong glance. “About six years.”

  So she’d left Australia at eighteen. “You waited around.”

  “I wanted to get out straight away, but I could hardly get a passport when the child protection services had me down as a runaway. Had to wait till I’d outgrown the system.”

  Smart. Logical. Proof that she’d genuinely wanted to escape. Running away hadn’t been a cry for attention, a stunt to see how much her foster family cared about her. For the best, or she’d have been devastated by the Barnetts’ attitude that they were better off without her.

  “Where were you those first few years?”

  She flicked on the indicator, made a right turn. Her voice was emotionless. “Sydney. I found some ads seeking housemates online. That way I didn’t have to put my name on the lease. Moved around a bit, worked cash-in-hand jobs, got driving lessons. I applied for the ice roads on my eighteenth birthday.”

  “Did you plan on coming back to Melbourne?”

  Her profile was guarded. “I didn’t think about it.”

  Air whipped through the open windows as she entered the freeway, one hand on the wheel, relaxed, steady.

  “Left,” he murmured, not that she seemed in danger of forgetting. He wanted to ask what had happened all those years ago; the reason she’d thrown Stevie into his care and not looked back.

  Not his business.

  After a time, she spoke quietly. “So Stevie isn’t seeing the Barnetts for Christmas?”

  Felix pinched his nose briefly, sniffled, and said, “Stevie’s not in contact with your old foster family.”

  He watched something close to fear clench tight over her features. “Why not?”

  “Been that way for years. Almost as long as you’ve been gone.” He and Stevie had been each other’s only family, for a time. “She stood up for you. Whenever she went back to visit, whenever your name came up...well, they weren’t kind. Stevie refused to let them speak about you like that.”

  Regan stared at the road ahead. One hand gripped the steering wheel fiercely. The other was a white ball in her lap.

  “She cracked it. Told them it was their fault anyway. They should have done more to help you; to stop you becoming the very things they called you behind your back. Said that they should have tried harder to find you. Then she walked out and they did nothing to stop her.”

  Regan’s words wobbled as she said, “I hate that I was those things.”

  He frowned.

  “The things they called me.” Her jaw was tight. “It’s not hard to guess.”

  “Don’t even think about that. None of it matters.”

  She nodded, but it didn’t lighten her profile. “Does Stevie believe I stole the mo
ney?”

  “Yeah. She does.”

  “She stood up for me anyway?”

  “Of course.”

  Her throat flexed under a heavy swallow. “I don’t think I can do it, Felix.”

  He didn’t have to ask what she meant. “You have to.”

  “She’ll hate me.”

  “No.”

  “She’ll ask why I left. Why I never came back or got in touch. She’ll need answers. She’ll deserve them.”

  He realized she was speaking more to herself, so agreed with a quiet, “Yes, she does.”

  “Besides, it’s Christmas,” she said, clutching the wheel with both hands now. “New Year. That’s the busiest time for accommodation. I’d have nowhere to stay.”

  “Don’t back out. You’re stronger than that.”

  Her voice rose a little. “The others don’t know me. I’d be some blow-in. No one wants a blow-in.”

  “What’s Christmas without one? They’re good people. They’ll love having you there.” Then, sensing she would only be persuaded when her arguments were knocked flat, he pulled out his phone and hit call from his contacts list. As the phone dialed, he switched it to loud speaker and said, “I’ll prove it.”

  She cut him a swift glance, shoulders tense as the ringing stopped and a man answered.

  “Hey, Felix.” Parker spoke over the quiet crash of waves in the background. Never far from the sea, that one. He was a surfer first and foremost, with his love of Byron Bay’s most popular beachside bar coming close second. “What’s up?”

  “Hey,” he said. “Minor change in my plans. I’m hoping to bring a friend along.”

  “Extra to Stevie and Zach?”

  Felix eyed Regan. She had to see Stevie. The longer she waited, the harder it would get. “Yep.”

  Parker sounded amused when he said, “Sure.”

  “She’s worried you guys will think she’s a blow-in.”

  “Tell her Byron Bay is populated by blow-ins.”

  Felix raised his brows. See? Regan didn’t look convinced.

  “She’s also worried there won’t be anywhere to stay.”