A Christmas in Connecticut Page 13

  “Yep…we better get going.” She smiled at him. “You look pretty handsome yourself.” Jack was in dark jeans and a navy-blue sweater; it made his blue eyes stand out; his dark blond hair tousled. He made her insides flip and flop. I hope he still likes me after tonight.

  Beth’s house smelled of Christmas as soon as Claire stepped inside. There was a nice fire going in the fireplace. The house smelled of wood, cinnamon, and Christmas tree. Archie sported a red tartan plaid bow tie. He walked up to Claire and immediately rolled onto his back for a tummy rub, which she obliged. “Merry Christmas, Archie,” she said to the small dog.

  “Merry Christmas, Tyler.” Claire hugged the stocky man.

  “How about some coffee guys? Beth’s still asleep,” Tyler said.

  “Sounds good,” Jack replied.

  They followed Tyler into the kitchen, Claire headed to the garage to pull the turkey from the refrigerator.

  “Here, let me grab that,” Jack said behind her.

  He was always the gentleman, and Claire loved that about him.

  After rinsing the brine off the turkey, she tied the legs together, stuffed the cavity with onions and fresh herbs, and then smothered the bird in butter before sliding it into the oven. She smiled to herself as she washed her hands. I did it.

  She slipped into the other room to quickly call Emmy. Even though it was still early in L.A., Emmy was already up fixing Christmas breakfast for her family.

  “Merry Christmas, Emm,” Claire said in a whisper, not wanting Jack to hear her on the phone.

  “Merry Christmas, Claire,” Emmy responded. “Is it a white Christmas?”

  “Oh my god, it is. You should see it; it looks like a postcard. I’ll send you pictures. But the reason I’m calling, and I gotta keep it quick, I need to know when I should cover the turkey with foil…do I do that now?”

  “No—” Emmy replied in a whisper. “—oh, why am I whispering, now?” She raised her voice, “you put on the foil once the breast is browned but the turkey still needs some more cooking time.”

  “Okay,” Claire looked up and saw Jack staring at her with a questioning look.

  “Okay, now…I’ll get that to you, bye,” she said loudly before ending the call.

  “What was that about?” Jack asked.

  “Oh, nothing…just my blog assistant needed the new post to review.” Another lie.

  “Okay…but why were you whispering?” His brows knitted down.

  “I didn’t want to wake Beth,” Claire responded. “Let’s go back and finish our coffee.” She hooked her arm through his and led him back to the kitchen.

  Christmas morning quickly passed into the afternoon. They’d enjoyed a tasty breakfast of bacon and blueberry pancakes, thanks to Tyler. Beth had been up and around before retiring to take a nap. Claire had needed to call Emmy again about the turkey; she was totally confused where to insert the thermometer. She thought maybe Jack had seen her, but maybe not. He’d been acting a bit quiet. Claire figured he was missing his dad this first Christmas without him.

  Soon Margie arrived. She was a diminutive octogenarian with snowy white hair perfectly coiffed. She wore a red sweater with a large, enameled Christmas tree broach fastened to it.

  “Merry Christmas, dear. You must be Claire,” she said as she gave Claire a kiss on the cheek. “Beth said she didn’t need me to bring anything, but I brought a fruitcake.”

  She shoved the tin into Claire’s hands; it felt as if it weighed about 5 pounds and probably could be used as a doorstop.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler.”

  “Call me Margie. No need for formalities, young lady. Now…do you have any eggnog?” Her eyebrows raised and her grey eyes sparkled.

  “Sure do, with brandy or without?”

  “With, of course, otherwise what would be the point?” she snorted and found a comfortable spot on the couch. Archie immediately jumped up next to her. “Well, hello there, Mr. Archibald…have you been over to see your paramour lately?” Mrs. Wheeler laughed. As she said this, Archie nestled in next to her and let her scratch between his ears.

  Tyler walked up to Claire as she was fixing Margie’s drink. “Go light on the booze or she’ll be talking to the Christmas tree,” he whispered.

  “Well, ho ho ho, everyone!” Hank had waltzed into the kitchen, his hands and arms loaded down with bags. “Merry Christmas, young lady,” he said as he gave Claire a hug. “I’ll take one of those eggnogs with the hooch in it.” He winked at her. “I’ve got a big pot here of mashed potatoes, they just need to be reheated on the stove, some more milk stirred into them and then they’ll be good to go.”

  “Thank you, Hank, that really helps a lot.” Claire took the pot from one bag and placed in on the stove. She made him an eggnog and set out to find Jack. He was sitting on the porch by himself. Claire sat down next to him. “Are you okay?” she asked, putting a hand on his thigh.

  “Yeah. Just thinking.” He glanced over at her.

  “About your dad?”

  “Yeah, and other things…how are you holding up?” he looked at her.

  “I’m okay. Being here with your family has helped. It’s kept my mind off my parents.” She chewed on her bottom lip, stealing a glance at him. It felt like something more was bothering him.

  “We better get back in,” he said abruptly, standing up. He waited for her to do the same.

  “Jack—we really need to talk.”

  “I know…let’s talk about it later,” he said. He held his hand out for hers.

  The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. Soon it was time for dinner. Claire checked over the dining room one last time. She placed the gingerbread house on the buffet, surrounded by pine branches and candles. The table looked festive in reds, greens, and gold. She’d removed the turkey about an hour ago, letting it rest. It looked picture perfect. Just maybe this would all be okay. She was still planning on telling Jack the truth tonight…how he reacted would help her decide what to do next. Her heart ached for it to be okay. The thought of no longer being with him was unbearable.

  “Okay everyone, it’s time for dinner,” Tyler called out. Jack and Claire finished bringing all the food to the table. It was a beautiful Christmas feast.

  Beth’s face beamed when she saw it. “Oh my gosh,” she said, taking her seat. “Dad would be proud.” She reached over and grabbed Jack’s hand. Tears had formed in her eyes. “I miss him so much.”

  “Me too,” Jack said, taking his sister’s hand.

  “We all do,” replied Hank. “Here’s to Harry.” He raised his glass. Everyone held theirs up also.

  “Well…let’s get started,” Jack said. He sliced turkey for everyone while they passed around the side dishes. “Everything looks great.”

  “It sure does. Thanks again Claire for helping. I feel as if you’re part of the family now,” Beth said. She smiled at Claire before looking over at Jack, who glanced away.

  Claire looked down at her plate, the turkey looked great. She was so proud of herself. I did it. She took a bite, and her taste buds immediately recoiled. Oh my god, it tastes like a salt lick. She quickly glanced around the table and saw everyone’s faces in various stages of surprise.

  “The, uh, turkey tastes like salt,” Hank said, pulling it from his mouth into his napkin. “Better not eat that with my high blood pressure, liable to end up in the hospital.”

  Claire looked at Jack. “It’s uh…kind of edible.” A look of discomfort was on his face as he attempted to chew the turkey.

  “I don’t understand what went wrong.” Claire’s heart had dropped into her stomach.

  “I think the brine had too much salt,” Beth said, a sympathetic look on her face. “How much did you put in?”

  “I don’t remember,” Claire felt panic take over. She could feel her emotions rising, threatening to start an army of tears rolling. “I followed the recipe…salt, sugar, garlic, oranges—”

  “Wait…where did you get the sugar from?” Beth asked, her eyes
wide.

  Claire felt confused. “From the blue cannister in the pantry, the one marked ‘sugar.’”

  “Oh my god, Claire it’s my fault…that’s salt in there, I should have told you…even though it says ‘sugar’ on the label, I keep my pickling salt in there…so the brine was all salt and no sugar. Oh…don’t cry, Claire, it’s not your fault. You did a great job.”

  Jack had put his arm around Claire. “It’s not your fault, a simple mix up because this isn’t your kitchen…don’t look so sad.”

  But Claire was sad.

  Just then, the faint sound of glass tinkling against glass was heard coming from the living room, along with the sound of rustling tree branches. Everyone had gone quiet as they all listened to the sound.

  “What’s that?” Beth said.

  “Where’s that pooch?” Hank asked.

  “Oh no, Archie…no…” Jack quickly got up and ran to the living room, Claire was right behind him. They made it into the room just in time to see Archie, the popcorn garland in his mouth, pull the entire Christmas tree down to the ground, sending up a loud crash of glass hitting the floor. The dog trotted off to his bed with his prize in his mouth.

  “Oh no!” Claire cried out, her hands on her cheeks. She couldn’t believe what she’d just witnessed. And now the living room was one big mess, the eight-foot tree felled by one small dog. Broken ornaments and tree branches were strewn everywhere. “This is awful…I just—”

  “Your gingerbread house just collapsed.” Hank yelled from the dining room.

  “Yeah, looks like it was in the 1906 quake,” Margie added.

  Claire could no longer stop the torrent of tears that were waiting to breach the flood gates. “I’m such a fraud, and now I’ve ruined your Christmas,” she sobbed.

  “Christmas isn’t ruined,” Jack said, putting his arms around her.

  Claire was nodding her head as tears continued to pour out. “And Tom…I’m so sorry Tom,” she said in between heaving sobs.

  “Tom? Who’s Tom?” Jack asked as he looked at her.

  Claire let out another wail.

  “Is that who you’ve been on the phone with?” Jack’s eyes narrowed as he held her shoulders.

  “What?” she said, wiping her eyes.

  “Who’s Tom, Claire?” He was sounding upset now.

  She looked up at him, her chest shuddering as she breathed in. “Tom the turkey…he died in vain.” More sobs heaved out.

  “If Tom’s the turkey, then who’ve you been on the phone with all day?” Jack’s eyes were questioning hers.

  Claire sniffled. “Emmy. She’s been helping me. I’m a phony Jack. Not a single thing in City Meets Country is made by me…it’s all made by Emmy, my friend. I only write the blog and take the pictures.”

  “I thought you had been on the phone with your ex-boyfriend.”

  “What? Zachary? No…just Emmy, she’s been trying to help me through all this…I haven’t done any of the things I write about.”

  Jack looked at her, his eyes kind. “I know,” he said softly.

  “You know?” Claire looked up at him. He was nodding his head. “How long have you known?” Hope flooded through her body.

  “Since sometime between the gingerbread house and the turkey farm,” he said. He pulled her into his chest. He smelled good, and she felt safe against him.

  “Are you mad?” She cautiously looked up at him.

  “No. I’m not mad. I just wished you would have trusted me with the truth sooner.” He ran one hand over her hair, smoothing it down.

  “I thought that you’d fallen for the fake Claire…I was afraid to tell you.” She chewed on her bottom lip.

  “I fell for the real Claire, the one right here in my arms. The one that loves baseball and reads x-rated romance novels to senior citizens. The one that understands what I’m going through. The one that despite knowing her shortcomings tried to help us and did. And the one that’s adorable as hell. That’s the Claire I fell for.” He pulled her closer and brought his lips to hers, kissing her slowly and deeply.

  Applause broke out around them. Everyone had been frozen in their tracks, listening to the entire exchange.

  Claire glanced from face to face. Everyone was beaming and happy. And so was she.

  Chapter 18

  Everyone gathered in the living room to exchange gifts. The ornament-free tree, with its busted branches, was back up in its stand thanks to Jack and Tyler. Claire had helped sweep up the mess from the floor. Archie had made a big huff when Tyler took the garland away from him. The small dog retired to his bed for the rest of the day, refusing to look at anyone.

  “This is for you, Claire.” Beth handed her a small box. In it was a pair of earrings, delicate beads of glass hung from sterling silver.

  “They’re beautiful Beth, thank you.”

  “A woman here in town made them; she’s really quite talented. I hope you enjoy them.”

  “I will, thank you again…you really didn’t have to get me anything.” Claire said.

  “Don’t be silly. I wanted to, you’ve been so helpful, and I wanted to show you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done.” Beth smiled at her.

  Claire handed a large gift box to Beth. “It’s for the baby.” Inside was a small quilt adorned with tiny, embroidered Scottie dogs along the border.

  “I love it…it’s perfect. I’m sure these dogs will be better behaved than Archie,” Beth laughed.

  Archie lifted his head and snorted at the sound of his name.

  “Here young lady, I gotcha a little something.” Hank pressed a gift bag into Claire’s hands.

  “Hank…how sweet. I feel bad that I didn’t get you anything,” Claire said as she pulled out the tissue paper wrapped item.

  “You may not feel bad anymore once you see what it is,” he said, a mischievous grin on his face.

  Claire laughed as she pulled out a Red Sox baseball cap. “You’re right…I don’t feel bad anymore…seriously though, thank you.” She gave him a big hug, which caused Hank’s cheeks to turn red.

  “Here Jack. This is for you, from me.” Claire handed him a present.

  Jack pulled the ribbon from the package and opened the box. He pulled out a beautiful silver frame. In it was a picture of him and his dad at Fenway.

  “Beth gave me the picture,” Claire said softly.

  “I love it, thank you.” He gave her a big hug and a kiss.

  “For you.” Jack handed Claire a large box.

  She was nervous as she pulled back the tissue paper. She gasped when she saw what was inside. It was a birdhouse made as an exact replica of the cottage, complete with a stone chimney, shutters, and even a small wreath hung on the door. “Jack…I love it.”

  “Something to remember River Falls by,” he replied.

  Claire got a pit in her stomach; she would only be in town for a bit longer and then she’d be back in Los Angeles. She really didn’t want to leave Jack or River Falls.

  It was late once Jack and Claire made it back to her house. As soon as they got through the front door, they were tangled up in one another’s arms. Lips on lips, hands roaming over each other’s bodies. Claire moaned as Jack’s tongue found hers. She pulled off her coat and threw it to the floor, Jack followed suit. They stopped only to unlace and remove their boots before embracing again.

  He ran his lips over her neck, kissing every square inch. Claire’s insides had turned to warm mush as he made his way once again to her mouth. He softly brushed his lips against hers while pulling her body tight against him. He let out a groan and removed the rest of his clothing, and Claire did the same. They made their way back to the bedroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothing behind them.

  In a second, Jack had Claire on the bed, kissing her jaw and making his way down to her breasts. She ran her fingers through his hair as every nerve ending in her body lit up. His warm mouth trailed down her stomach and eventually found the area between her thighs. She moaned as soon as his tongu
e reached her most sensitive area.

  “Oh my god, Jack, that feels so good,” she said in a low voice. She closed her eyes as he worked his tongue and mouth on her, soon making her feel that most pleasant sensation rip through her entire body.

  He held her gaze before bringing his lips to hers, allowing her to taste herself on him. Claire could feel his desire hard against her. “Claire,” he moaned as he buried his face in her neck. He suddenly stopped and looked up at her. “Shit. I don’t have a condom…I’ll have to run over to my place to grab one. Shit, shit, shit.”

  Claire reached a hand up to his cheek. “I’ve got us covered. I picked some up just in case this happened.”

  “You did? Oh my god, you’re awesome. Where are they?”

  “In the nightstand drawer.” She continued to run her hands over his cheek and through his hair. Claire felt about as good as she could right now but wanted more. She wanted to feel him inside her…his warmth filling her up.

  Jack leaned over and pulled the drawer open. Claire noticed a small grin on his face.

  “What? What’s making you smile?” she asked playfully.

  “Um…I think I found your flashlight.”

  “What? Oh my god… how embarrassing.” Her cheeks were burning red hot.

  He smoothed the hair from her forehead. “Nothing to be embarrassed about…it’s part of what I love about you…you’re always surprising me.”

  “You love something about me?” Just the mention of the ‘L’ word made her stomach fill with butterflies. She searched his eyes for clues.

  “I do. Actually, I love everything about you.” He paused as he looked at her. “I love you, Claire.”

  Claire felt her heart soar. He loves me. She smiled from ear to ear, her embarrassment forgotten. “I love you too, Jack.”