Christmas Miracle Page 16

  “No guarantees, I understand. Well, thank you, Mr. Giffin, and I hope to hear good news soon.”

  They shook hands. “It normally takes about a week, but since Christmas is only a few weeks away we might get this speeded up a little. Merry Christmas.”

  “Thank you. Merry Christmas to you and your family as well.”

  He glanced down at the photo on his desk. “They make every day seem like Christmas. I’m truly blessed.”

  She smiled. “What a beautiful thing to say. They are lucky to have you.”

  “As I am with them.” He walked her to the door, and she glided out to the lobby. There was something about Heaven that made people happy. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but knew this picture-perfect town was genuine. It came gift-wrapped with a bow that almost guaranteed its small population a lifetime of happiness and joy.

  That was a chance she’d bank on—there were no guarantees.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Mick avoided Adalyn at lunch hour, eating at the snack bar in the main lobby instead of the employee cafeteria, but that didn’t stop her from tracking him down.

  “Whatchya doing eating here?” she grumbled, waving a sparkly purple nail in his face. She was always one for fancy manicures, and she said that her toes usually matched. Not that he could see them in her sensible work shoes.

  “I’ve been busy and thought I’d grab a quick bite.”

  “Huh! You weren’t here yesterday. I looked.” Her pretty face scrunched up, her mouth turned pouty. “Were you sick or something?” She put a hand on her generous hip.

  “I took a mental health day. Heck, I’ve been slammed—seems like everyone in the world gets sick around the holidays.” He thought of Ray Charles and all the other dudes and dudettes who were inconvenienced the other day. “So many people waiting around for hours just to see a doc. It’s not right.”

  “You can say that again.” She gave him a warm smile. “Okay. You’re forgiven. You want to catch a drink after work? I’m paying.”

  “Uh, no. I promised someone I’d be back tonight at five. They’ve got something big going on, and wanted me there.”

  “And who is “they?” she asked suspiciously. “Is that a single or a plural? Sure sounds like a plural to me. So what are their names, Mick, and don’t be making anything up. I always know when you do.”

  “Name is Sarah, and she’s a single, but Meghan and Byron are good friends of mine. Sarah is Meghan’s sister. I’ve told you about them. So I’m helping Sarah, you know, as a favor.”

  “Sure. I get it. And does this favor do anything nice for you?”

  He thought about the previous night, and fought back a smile. “You mean like being grateful? I don’t think she’s the grateful type, but she gave me a ride the other day to work, which was pretty nice.”

  “What’s this pretty nice bullshit? You’re not telling me the truth. I can always tell. Your ears turn red, and twitch.”

  “They do not.” He touched the lobe of his ear and it did seem warm.

  “They sure do.” She pursed her lips. “So, how friendly are you two? Kissy-kissy, bang-bang friendly?”

  “What does that even mean?” Mick asked, amazed at her audacity.

  “You banging her?” She folded her arms under her chest, and tapped a toe.

  “I’m doing no such thing, and if I was, it wouldn’t be any of your business.”

  “That so?” She stepped closer and her left tit brushed against his arm.

  “Guess it is.” Mick dodged her before Adalyn grabbed him or something, and ran up the flight of stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. By the fourth floor, he stopped for breath, hands on his knees, sucking in air, then began to laugh.

  Tears spilled down his cheeks as rollicking laughter echoed off the concrete walls. He stopped, surprised by the sounds, then started up again. Damn, but it felt good. Couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like that.

  He couldn’t wait to get of here and tell Sarah all about it.

  Leaving the hospital around three thirty, he caught the train to Heaven and was home by five, showered and dressed in a pair of clean jeans and a long-sleeved cream colored Henley. Freshly shaved, too.

  At five past the hour he glanced out the plain four by four glass window that faced the street. A dingy forest-green curtain gave him privacy, so he peeked out from the side to see if he could catch sight of Sarah. He wondered if he should ask her in, or take her out somewhere? In offered more advantages, but he wanted to do the right thing—whatever that might be.

  Stepping away from the window he fluffed the two pillows on the bed and straightened the rumpled edge of the comforter.

  She seemed to know what she wanted, so he’d let her lead. He sure hoped she got that apartment. It would keep her in town and she might invite him over from time to time. After all, she’d said she liked his saddle and he’d given her a pretty good ride, if her enthusiastic squeal meant what he thought it did.

  The knock on his door startled him. How had Sarah gotten past the window in the minute it took him to freshen up the bed? Heart beating a few pumps faster, he took two steps to the door.

  “Hey.” He couldn’t help the big sappy grin that came over him. But she was so darn pretty, wearing a red wool coat and a black fedora styled hat. Looked like she’d just stepped out of the movies. It’s A Wonderful Life, or some such thing.

  “Hey yourself.” She stood there staring at him, and he wasn’t sure what she was thinking. Should he kiss her or not?

  “How did your day go?” He leaned in and gave her cheek a peck. Playing it safe, he figured. What he really wanted to do was remove her hat, remove her coat, and get her naked—he’d keep her covered just fine.

  She stepped into the room and threw her black gloves on the bed. “Great. I think.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I spoke to Mr. Giffin at the bank and he said it would take up to a week to know whether the mortgage is approved. If my credit rating is good, which I’m sure it is, then they might approve me even though I quit my job. He said it would be better if I had one, so I called around and scored.”

  Sarah moved fast. “You found a job?”

  “Sure did. I’m excited about it too. I wanted something different, and this job will be perfect. I’ll be working at an out-patient surgery clinic every day from six to four, half days on Friday. I start the first week in January.”

  “Sounds great. Where is it?”

  “Next town over. West Chester.”

  “That’s cool. Only about a twenty minute drive.”

  “Yes. I drove over and interviewed today, and they offered me the job right then and there. So I called Mr. Giffin and he updated the application, and seemed to think it would increase my chances greatly.”

  “That’s amazing news. I think we should celebrate. You like Italian food? There’s a nice restaurant down near the park. It’s early enough we could probably get in.”

  “I would love that. I’m parked just down the street. Why don’t you give them a call?” She stopped when she saw his face. “Oh, I forgot. No phone. I’ll Google it and we can call from here.” She sat down on his bed and pulled her smart phone from her bag.

  “Trevini’s. That’s the name.” Mick watched her, feeling like a jerk. Maybe it was time he got himself a phone. Didn’t have to start buying a lot of things, but a phone would come in handy. Especially if he wanted to talk to Sarah every day. He could call her during her lunch breaks or something.

  Sarah was a go-getter, and he didn’t want to be left behind. Besides, he’d been like that once. Had wanted to be a Marine, wanted to be the best, and had proven himself as a top marksman. If he set his sights on something, well, he didn’t stop until mission accomplished.

  He was starting to feel that way about Sarah.

  She nodded and pressed the numbers for the restaurant. Asked for a reservation for two at five thirty, then hung up with a happy grin. “We’re in. Have you been
there before?”

  “No. I don’t go out much, and when I do it’s either Nick’s, Chinese take-out or a pizza joint.”

  “Then how did you know about it?”

  He hung his head. When he’d first arrived in Heaven he’d been hiding in the woods and used to help himself to the leftovers from the restaurant’s garbage. He didn’t want Sarah knowing that—it wasn’t the kind of story that would win a woman’s heart.

  “What? You look guilty about something.”

  “Who me? Why should I? Been here for a while now, seen plenty of people coming and going, that’s all.” He shuffled his feet.

  Sarah studied him and he could practically see her mind spinning. “You used to live in the woods, right?”

  “Uh-huh. Until Sheriff Brown kicked me out.”

  “I doubt you had money to spend on fancy Italian restaurants.”

  “True.” He braced his shoulders against her judgment. Would she leave, ashamed of him?

  “So…how did you…” Her blonde brows rose with understanding. “The Dumpster?”

  His head shot up and he held her gaze. If she wanted the truth, he’d give it to her.

  “I knew when they closed and waited, when I remembered to eat. Sometimes I was so lost that I’d forget for days and then a smell would come, kicking survival instincts into gear.” He patted his stomach and watched Sarah closely. “Tasted pretty good.”

  “Oh, Mick.” Instead of disgust or pity, her eyes darkened with compassion. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

  He deliberately lightened his tone. “It was a pretty good gig until the sheriff came along—it’s amazing what people will throw out. I ate better than I had in years. Lived off rations and that was awful.”

  She laughed low and reached for him. “I can only imagine.”

  “I got my check from the government today, so dinner’s on me. Or on them, I should say.” He didn’t want her to think that he had nothing to share.

  “You don’t have to.” She squeezed his fingers, not letting him go.

  “I want to.” He looked at her mouth. “I won’t kiss you right now, because I might ruin your lipstick, but you look awfully good.”

  “So do you.” She stepped closer and put her hands around his neck, and then gave him a gentle kiss. “That’s for starters.”

  “Hmm, I like the sound of that. Can’t wait for the entrée,” he said with double meaning.

  Fifteen minutes later, Sarah parked behind the restaurant, and Mick led her in. “Never been inside. Oh, this is nice,” he whispered as he scanned the interior. Dark and romantic.

  They headed for the hostess, who greeted them with a smile.

  “We just called a half hour ago,” Sarah told the hostess. “Reservation is in my name. Sarah Shaunnessy.”

  “Yes, I have you at table twelve.” She nodded to the maitre d’ who led them to a table in the corner for two. After he’d given them both a large black menu and left to get ice waters, Sarah’s shining eyes met his.

  “This place is awesome. I never knew about it before.”

  “Glad you like it.”

  “I think I’ll buy a gift card when we leave. It’ll be a perfect thank you present for Byron and Meghan for letting me stay with them so long.”

  “I’m sure they’d appreciate that although you haven’t been here that long. What’s it been, a week?”

  “Just over, but I’ll stay until I move into my new place, so it’ll end up being at least a month.”

  “That’s true, although I’ve got a bed for two.”

  She smiled. “Which I hope to visit often.”

  “Likewise. So this is kind of nice, isn’t it?” Maybe twenty tables, but the quaint stone building was old and very beautiful with a huge fireplace, rafter ceilings, and a violinist who made his way through the tables.

  “I probably should have dressed better,” he said, seeing men in slacks and jackets.

  “You look very handsome to me,” she told him. “It’s early. Only half past five. If we were here at seven or eight, I’d wear something nicer too. Next time.”

  His heart surged. Next time? So she wanted to come here with him again. Things were definitely looking up.

  “I’m going to have a martini,” she said. “What about you?”

  “Okay, this is a celebration. I’ll have a scotch.”

  “You’re on.” The waiter dropped off their waters, and she asked for a Cosmo and Mick ordered a Johnny Walker and water.

  They were perusing the menu when the violinist stopped by their table and asked if they had any requests. Mick lifted an eyebrow at Sarah. “You probably have a better idea than me.”

  She smiled at the older man with dark hair and a thin mustache, black suit and shiny violin. “How about, “That’s Amore”?”

  He nodded at her and began to play, his rich voice singing the happy tune with plenty of gusto. A few couples at nearby tables began singing the verse, while Sarah clapped, swaying to the music, as she sang along too. After a full minute, Mick joined in, buoyed by true happiness.

  Sarah took his hand and leaned across the table. His heart quickened. Was this love? Had he fallen head over heels for this beautiful woman who captured his thoughts, his mind, his imagination? Was he capable of loving a woman after all that he had done? And would she be able to love him back?

  After the last chord rang out, everyone clapped, and the violinist kept it going, dipping his violin and parading from one table to the next, playing the music they all loved. Mick had never felt so carefree, so joyous, and wondered if the scotch had anything to do with it. Then his eyes fell on his secret girlfriend’s happy face, and he knew the answer was Sarah Shaunnessy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Sarah absorbed the energy in the Italian restaurant, the voices all around her singing about a “big pizza pie” and laughing, the patrons holding hands, sharing the goodwill all around. She loved the look on Mick’s face, the sense of wonder and joy that he seemed unaware of. He’d brought her here, and she had brought him a moment’s happiness. The song had been the only one she could think of, but it was so perfect and she knew it would always remain special to her.

  When the restaurant quieted down and the violinist played a sweet ballad, the waiter took their order. Sarah asked for angel hair vongole, baby clams in a garlic and wine sauce, and Mick had the special, an osso buco, braised veal shanks in a rich red broth with carrots and small roasted potatoes.

  They each had a glass of the house cabernet and sat back to enjoy the music and pick at the warm garlic bread brought to the table. “So, have you told your sister the good news?” he asked. “I’m sure she’ll be happy for you.”

  “You’re the first to know. I came directly from the interview to your place, as I said I’d be there by five. But I left a message on her cell, telling her that I had some exciting news and would be home by eight.”

  “That gives us lots of time.”

  She took his hand. “When I drop you home, if we have time, I’d like to come in again.” She wanted more of Mick, and to make him happier than he was already.

  “You want to leave now?”

  She sputtered and grabbed the linen napkin to touch her lips. “Behave yourself before I say yes.”

  He grinned and she melted a little inside. He seemed so grateful to be with her, and she just wanted to hug him and show him that he was worth so much more. More than he realized, way more than she had understood only a week or so before. He was a good guy. Better than that. He had put his life on the line for his country. He’d returned to live alone, fending for himself on the streets—and in the woods. There was something profoundly wrong with that, and yet he never complained or made excuses. He accepted it as his due.

  Well, he deserved a whole lot better and she was going to see that he got it.

  As a nurse, she knew that men like him often avoided treatment facilities, but he was a prime example of why they should go. Rather than believe his life was ha
lf-over, he should rejoice that it was just beginning. The war was behind him, he deserved to be loved, have a real home, a family, and the security he had fought so hard to obtain.

  The meal arrived in about twenty minutes, but the time went by quickly, as she and Mick enjoyed the ambience and exchanged long, mouth-watering glances. They both had other things on their mind beside food, and yet she enjoyed every bite. The clam broth was heavy with garlic and lemon and tasted divine. Mick dipped his bread into the rich red savory sauce and ate his veal shank with obvious zeal.

  They passed on dessert and she asked for a hundred dollar gift card to be added to the bill, telling the waiter that it was to be presented to her. Mick tried to argue but she gave him a stern look, and he begrudgingly let it go.

  He put a hand on her back as they made their way through the tables, and when they passed the violinist Mick slipped him a ten dollar bill.

  She was impressed by the gesture and Mick’s generosity. “I had a wonderful night,” she told him as he opened the driver’s side door.

  He put his hands under her open coat and onto her warm back, drawing her in for a very thorough kiss. Her mouth opened under his and she breathed in the scent of him, tasting not only the sweetness of his mouth, but a subtle hint of the delicious red wine sauce he’d devoured. She hoped tonight he’d devour her the way he had his meal.

  They arrived back at his room just before seven, and she had only taken her coat off when he came up behind her and started kissing her neck.

  Her senses swirled and her knees buckled as desire hit her with full force. Damn, but she wanted him. She arched her neck, and put a hand to his face, then curled around so she could have his mouth. She fisted her hands in his thick hair and kissed him with real hunger, a fierceness that she didn’t quite understand.

  Mick was not like any man she’d ever known, and not the type she ever thought she’d want, yet she did. She wanted him inside of her, filling every hungry inch of her, but most importantly she wanted to give him the loving he so well deserved. He touched her soul on a different level than anyone ever had before.