Chapter 14

Almost Five Years Ago

The familiar welcoming scent of apples now mixed with pine. A week before, the entire family, Dan included, had gone to find the perfect live Christmas tree.

“I feel like I’m intruding,” Dan had said when Justine told him he’d be coming along.

“It’s tradition,” Roger had explained. “All the Albrights go together as a family and get the tree. Then decorate it. Marriage and grandchildren don’t change the tradition except to add to the number of people going along.”

“But Justine and I aren’t married yet,” Dan said.

“Being engaged is enough to make you family,” Roger said.

Now it was Christmas Eve, and Dan showed up unexpectedly.

Avery opened the door to him. “Hey, you’re a day early,” he joked. “Christmas dinner isn’t until tomorrow at noon.” He stepped out of the way and let Dan in. “Don’t tell me, you came by to give Justine her present early. Want some eggnog?”

Avery was very happy.

“Sounds like you’ve already had some.”

“Just a little, and it’s delicious,” Avery replied.

And Dan wondered what was in the eggnog. He forced a smile, thinking yes, he had a present, all right, but Justine wasn’t going to like this one. From the foyer, he was hit with the unmistakable sense of Christmas and family and home. It was a closeness that few people ever experience. He knew he couldn’t remember the last time he experienced it.

He wondered if he’d get a piece of pie. Before Justine kicked him out the front door.

“Is Justine around?” Dan asked, unzipping his coat so the warmth of home could penetrate the cold left in him from the drive here. He knew she was there, spending the few days before Christmas at the home where she grew up, helping her mother with last minute details before the big holiday bash.

“No, she’s not a round,” Avery quipped. “She’s not a square, either. She’s kind of curvy, but I bet you already knew that.”

Dan grinned. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Justine and her mother came from the direction of the kitchen then. “Hi, what’s up?” Justine greeted him, her words rather hesitant as if she already knew what he was there to tell her. It still amazed him how she could read him as easily as she did. He was caught up in the beautiful way she seemed to glow even though she wore an apron and had flour in her hair. From the living room came the sounds of laughter. The rest of the family, or some of them, were watching something on television.

“Avery,” Abby said, “come help me get these pies into the oven. And stay out of my eggnog.”

A moment later, they were alone. Well, not quite alone, the presence of family filled the air around them.

“What is it?”

That was just like her, straight to the point.

“Don’t I get a kiss?” he asked.

She gave him a quick kiss, and pulled away before he could get much of a grip on her.

“So tell me. Something’s up. It’s written all over your face. And this isn’t like you to come by without calling first. Besides, you’ve still got your uniform on,” she insisted.

“It’s about tomorrow,” he began.

Her eyes narrowed, and Dan thought she’d already guessed what was coming. “What about tomorrow?”

“I have to work.”

For a long moment, she stared at him. “But you took vacation time to make sure you’d be off for Christmas.”

“Yes, well it got canceled because McGill is sick, and the chief needs me there.”

“McGill isn’t sick.” She was instantly riled, and her voice echoed off the walls of the foyer.

Dan shrugged slightly. “I can’t be the judge of that. All I know is that the chief caught me before the end of my shift today and said he needs me to do a seven A to seven P tomorrow.”

“Didn’t you tell him you had plans?”

“Yes, but it did little good.”

“It’s Christmas,” she said.

Her eyes sparkled with anger, and Dan stared at her. It was as if the heat of her anger set off his desire. She argued better than anyone he’d ever known, but he didn’t really see her angry too often. There was something about the sparkle that came to her eyes that made him want to grab her and press her entire length up against him with the wall behind her. And kiss her.

Her father was in the next room, so he didn’t dare touch her. He didn’t move.

“The town still needs to be patrolled. Crime doesn’t take off for the holidays,” he reminded her. “In fact, the holiday can make it worse, with too much togetherness and more travelers on the highways, all mixed together with something probably more potent than your mom’s eggnog.”

“I don’t care,” she snapped.

He really wanted to kiss her. He had to lick his suddenly dry lips.

“We have it all planned,” she went on. “My mother has a thirty-pound turkey, for crying out loud.”

“I can’t help it. You’ll just have to save me some.”

“It won’t be the same. We should be together on Christmas.”

“It’s my job, I can’t walk away from it.”

“Not even for one day? For Christmas!”

“No,” he said evenly.

She opened her mouth, but then closed it again before she let any words tumble out, and Dan knew exactly what she worked to keep unsaid. She hated his job and the hours that went with it. She hated the fact he was a cop, putting his life in danger, putting that danger before everything else. The only time she’d ever voiced it was that day he’d saved her life. It had never been stated in so many words again, but that didn’t change her feelings. Cops had bad hours. This wasn’t the first time he had to let something go by because he had to work or he couldn’t end his shift because he was caught in something.

But he could never walk away. Being a cop was who he was. She had no idea what it had taken for him to get where he was. He could no sooner quit as he could quit breathing. He knew he didn’t want to be anything else, except Justine Albright’s husband. He waited, anticipated, but hoping that she didn’t ask him to choose between the two. Because he knew deep in his heart, that if he chose one, he would hate it. And if he chose the other, she would hate it.

She stared at him, and he knew she was going to ask him to choose. He could see the argument building within her eyes. He could almost see the question coming like the light at the end of the tunnel that would turn out to be a train about to run him down.

It was Roger, standing in the doorway with a grandchild in his arms, who stopped the argument before it had the chance to begin.

“Well,” he said, his voice even and deep, “it looks as if we’ll just be celebrating Christmas the day after tomorrow instead of tomorrow.”

“Dad—” Justine started.

He held up a hand to stop her. “Why not? The day after tomorrow is Sunday. No one has to work. Your brothers will just get to stay longer. If the kids get too antsy, we’ll let them open a few presents.”

“But the food?” Justine asked.

“Can be reheated for Sunday, right Ab?” he asked Abby, who was in the kitchen, but apparently heard the entire conversation

“Of course,” she assured them. “And since the turkey hasn’t been cooked yet, I’ll just keep in the refrigerator and hold it off another day.”

Roger looked at his daughter. The child in his arms, Justine’s niece, reached up and touched his nose. The touch didn’t take Roger’s attention from Justine. “Dan’s a police officer,” he said.

“I know that,” she said.

“Then work with the idea and not against it,” he advised gently. “And let us not forget just whose birthday it is we celebrate. I doubt if He will care when we celebrate it.” Then, he turned and walked back into the living room.

They stood still for a moment. Then Justine hesitantly moved into his embrace. Dan held her to him. Her spark of anger was gone, but his want remained. There was nothing that compared to the feeling of completeness Dan got when he held her, especially at the end of his shift. She was like a piece of him that he missed when they were apart. He knew she gave everything she had to everything she did. He’d seen it in the legal cases she represented, and he knew it would be the same for their marriage. He wanted to give himself to her completely, too, but he didn’t know if that was ever going to be possible.

There were things in his past he couldn’t share with her, parts of him he could never let her see, things that made him choose becoming an officer of the law. Then when his partner died in his arms, he knew he could never be anything else. At the same time he couldn’t let it tear his soul to shreds again. He’d let himself get close to his partners because that was how partners worked. But the first one had nearly ruined his life. Then a second one had torn out his heart. And he’d learned first-hand that no matter how good a cop he was, he couldn’t stop bad things from happening.

He could, however, stop them from affecting his soul.

So now, in the foyer, with Christmas and family so close, he held Justine to him. He could love her. He could make love to her. He could hold her. He could be there for her. He could share his life with her.

He hoped it would be enough for the two of them and their life together.