Blue Christmas (The Moody Blue Trilogy | Book One) (11 page)

“Well, I’m here to tell you, this is no dream, girlfriend. No, ma’am, no
way. And I might as well tell you, I’ve known Jason McKenzie a long time, and—”
Marissa paused, cocking her head to one side. “I’m here to tell you, he’s got
it for you
bad
!”

Hannah blew out a troubled sigh, resting her hand on Marissa’s arm. “No, no,
Marissa—I mean Rissa—listen to me. It’s not how it looks. Jason is wonderful.
He’s sweet, he’s unbelievably
normal
, all things considered. But I’m not
stupid. He’s home on vacation, he’s just being friendly since his parents
invited me over and—”

“No way. Huh uh, I don’t buy that for one minute.”

“Be serious, Rissa! You’ve got this all wrong. His parents were so nice
to me. I was having this stupid little pity party about spending Christmas
alone, and then Laura showed up, and she took me to this beautiful candlelight
service, and I met Frank, and . . . I’m not an idiot. It’s just
an exaggerated case of their holiday spirit, y’know? It’s Christmas. People go
out of their way to share their hearts and homes this time of year. And Jason?
Well, maybe he’s enjoying being out of the spotlight for a while and hanging
out with someone who’s . . . someone that’s—”

Marissa waved her hand with attitude, letting Hannah know she wasn’t
having any of it. “Give it up, girl. Nice try. And if that’s what you want to
believe, then believe it. But I’m telling you this from someone who knows
Jason. He’s different with you. I’ve seen him with other women. I was there
when he and Jennifer were tight.
This
is different.” She drove home her point
by tapping her manicured nails on the counter. “You gotta listen to me, honey.
I won’t tell you wrong.”

Hannah took a deep breath, then slowly let it out, her heart pounding
furiously. “Whoa . . . I don’t know what to say.” She felt a
little dizzy. The butterflies stormed back in.

“Well, let me tell you one more thing about Jason.”

“Go on.”

Marissa laced her fingers together then stretched her locked hands high
over her head. “Jason McKenzie is one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met
in the business. Besides Gevin, of course,” she smiled. “Jason has never been
caught up in the garbage of our industry. He loves what he does—don’t get me
wrong. But what you see is what you get with him. No pretense, no façade, he’s
the real thing. I love him like a brother, and I have from the very beginning.
And that’s why I can tell you with complete honesty that he will not lead you
on if there’s nothing there. He might be gracious, he might be polite, but he
would
never
take the time to get to know you like this if he wasn’t
interested.”

Hannah scrunched her face. “But then why would Frank warn me that his son
could be ‘quite the heartbreaker’—I think that’s how he put it.”

Marissa smiled, her teeth gleaming against her lips. “Girl, that’s what
everybody
says about Jason. It’s because he’s so nice, sure, but it’s also because every
girl this side of Moscow has decided he should marry her! Doesn’t matter what
age, they still think he’s theirs. He’s broken hearts all over the planet, and most
of them are girls he’s never met and never will. So chill. Just a generic,
fatherly thing. Don’t give it another thought.”

Gradually, the smile faded from Marissa’s face and her movements ceased.
She looked up at Hannah. “I think they’ve talked long enough. C’mon. Let’s go
check it out.”

Hannah pressed her eyes shut briefly, then followed her new friend up the
stairs. They found Gevin and Jason sitting face to face, still in intense
conversation. When the girls appeared on the stairs, they both leaned back,
seeming to welcome the interruption. Marissa threw her a knowing wink. She knew
these guys. There was no question in Hannah’s mind she could read their hearts.
Marissa walked over to the music system and loaded it with several selections.

A Motown melody
filled the loft as Marissa turned, her body feeling the rhythm. Her long brown
arms reached in the air as she moved to the familiar love song

“Anybody wanna dance?”

Gevin moved to her, pulling her into his arms then moving in rhythm with
her. Hannah reached for Jason’s shoulder, gently massaging it. “You okay?”

He brandished a tired smile. “I’m in shock, actually.” He shook his head,
tousling his hair and blowing out a long sigh. “But right now, we need a break.
C’mere.” He took her hand, leading her into a dance of their own. “I love this
song.” He sang the words as they moved together. In spite of the tension of the
last hour, she melted at the sound of it. Especially when he got to the part
about
my girl . . .

First one song, then another and another. They laughed, they occasionally
traded partners, they tried a few line dances from way back when, and they
forgot their worries. For the moment, anyway.

Kenny G filled the room again and she was in Jason’s arms. She rolled the
cameras in her mind, wanting to seal this moment in her memory forever. This
embrace. The made-up words he sang against her hair, words that touched her
heart. They swayed gently to the sad melody of that amazing saxophone. Jason’s
voice caught and he sang no more. He held her, still moving to the music.

“Hannah,” he whispered. “Stay close this week. Please?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, feeling the
dampness of his eyes against her skin. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

Chapter 8

T
he early morning sun sent a cheery
glow through the kitchen’s bay window, bouncing off the snow-covered landscape
outdoors. Breakfast aromas filled the air as Hannah continued.

“So he’s backing me up in this corner. Nobody’s around, right? I’m scared
to death but I wasn’t about to let him know that. He’s a defensive tackle. I
stand no chance against this big ape. I figure he’s got, oh maybe 150 pounds on
me. My knees are Jell-O!”

She stood at the
stove over a sizzling omelet sharing the story with Frank, Laura, and Marissa who
all sat at the kitchen table over mugs of hot coffee. Dressed in gray sweats Jason
had loaned her with her hair swept up on top of her head, she felt surprisingly
relaxed and at home talking to these people.

“He’s so close I can smell the bratwurst he had for lunch. He’s saying, ‘oh
baby, oh baby, you know you gotta have me . . . I’ll make
all your dreams come true.’ I thought I was going to hurl right there on his
size 14 Nikes!”

She tossed some shredded cheese and bacon bits into the omelet then folded
it, never missing a word. “And all of a sudden I remember the PE whistle in my
pocket. He’s moving in, got his hands up against the wall so I’m literally
pinned like a prisoner, right? He leans his fat head down and starts whispering
in my ear, ‘c’mon baby, you ‘n me, let’s try a little play action pass of our
own.’”

The groans of
her small audience urged her on. Hannah grew more animated, waving her spatula
in the air to punctuate every word. “I slowly reach down in my pocket, grab my
whistle, and before he can say another word, I’m
blasting
that thing!”

Frank’s roaring laughter bounced around the kitchen walls as Marissa doubled
over with laughter.

“And it’s
so
shrill and
so
loud, he’s holding his ears and
screaming at me—‘Stop it! Stop it!’ like some big ’ol sissy boy. But I just kept
blowing and blowing, louder and louder ’til I thought for sure he was gonna cry
for his mama.” She scooped the omelet out of the frying pan and flipped it onto
a plate, dropped the spatula, and turned to face them again. “And then?” She
paused for effect.

“Then what?” Laura begged.

“I jerked my knee up in his nether lands.”

“Oh no you did not!” Marissa yelled.

Hannah howled. “Oh, I most definitely did!”

Laura stopped laughing just long enough to add, “Oh, honey, that was very
brave!”

Frank whimpered, cowering a little, the way men do when they hear tales
of such strategic “targets,” but his laughter never dissipated.

“He’s lying there, all curled up in the fetal position, just moaning and
groaning and carrying on like a big ol‘ baby. So I straightened my clothes, stood
up all straight and said, ‘Tommy Joe, you ever come near me again, I’ll make
sure you sing soprano for the rest of your sorry life.
You got that?’”

“Oooo, Hannah! You are my hero!”

“Thank you, Rissa. I’ll have you know, all he did was nod his pitiful
head and drag himself out of there. But I can tell you one thing, that was the
last
time he ever said a
word
to me. He sees me coming in the
hall and he bee-lines the other way. Does my heart good! Did my daddy teach
this girl a thing or two or what?”

“I believe he did at that,” Frank chuckled. “Good for you, setting him
straight. Just remind me to walk on the other side of the room when you’re
coming
my
way!”

“Oh please, as if I’d ever have cause to set
you
straight?” Hannah
passed a plate with the steaming omelet to Marissa. “Laura, what would you like
on your omelet?”

“Just some of those bell peppers and cheese with a few sprinkles of  bacon.
Thank you, Hannah.” She lifted her mug. “Marissa’s looks yummy. I’m not sure I
can wait.” She quickly forked a small bite off Marissa’s plate, barely escaping
the playful swat in return.

Marissa moved her plate away from Laura. “Mama Mac, you keep your fork
off my plate or I’ll be showin’ you a play action of my own. I’m just sayin’ . . .”
She flashed her a huge, mischievous grin.

Raising a brow, Laura feigned innocence as she continued to enjoy her
stolen mouthful of cheesy omelet. When she followed it with a sip of coffee,
she started to laugh, her coffee going down the wrong pipe. Her coughs echoed
across the room.

Frank patted her on the back amidst the laughter. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“What’s all the racket?”

Hannah turned to find Jason coming through the patio door. He pulled off
his stocking cap and stomped the snow off his feet. She laughed out loud at the
sight of him.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Bad hair day, Jason?” Marissa teased. His hair stood straight up with
static electricity making him look like a werewolf in an old black and white movie.
Jason ducked for a peek in the mirror by the back door before attempting to pat
it into place. He walked back into the kitchen. “Very funny. Glad you all had a
nice guffaw at my expense.”

Laura coughed
once more, then asked, “Jason, what is all that noise coming out of your
backpack?”

“Oh—Baby!” He turned around to reveal the tiny puppy’s snout popping out
of a pocket in his backpack. She yelped again in protest. “Okay, okay! I’ll get
you out!”

He lifted the backpack off his shoulders and flipped it to pull the puppy
out. “Baby and I took a long walk. Didn’t we, Baby girl?” he cooed, rubbing
noses with the miniature dog. “I thought she’d be more comfortable in here
where it’s all nice and warm. Have you looked outside? Do you believe all that
snow?”

Frank stood beside his son. “It’s incredible, isn’t it? I can’t remember
the last time we had this much snow. Good thing you don’t have to leave anytime
soon.”

Jason smiled at Hannah. “What am I smelling? Hannah?
You’re
cooking? No way.”

“Excuse me, but just because I appear to be a sponge around here doesn’t
mean I can’t cook.”

He walked up behind her. “Good morning, Hannah.”

She turned to face him. “Good morning, Jason. You okay?” she asked
quietly.

“You better watch your mouth, Jason,” Marissa said. “This girl can
cook.
I’m here to tell you that’s the best omelet I’ve ever had. Girl, where did you
learn to cook like that?”

Hannah cracked another egg into the bowl. “When you’re a starving college
student, you learn to work with the cheapest possible ingredients. Eggs top the
list. You should see what I can do with four-for-a-dollar mac and cheese.”

“Uh-oh,” Jason interrupted. “I do believe you’re trying to come onto me
now. Because I
love
mac and cheese.”

Hannah wagged her head. “I know, I know—it was in all those teen
magazines. My mom used to hassle me because all I ever ate was mac and cheese
until
she found out it was her beloved Jason McKenzie’s favorite dish.”

“Your
mom
is a fan?” He barked a laugh.

“Afraid so. She’s hopeless. She took me to my first concert when you guys
were on tour in Dallas and she’s been hooked ever since. Even has all your
music on her iPod. Listens to it all the time. But I drew the line when she put
your poster in her and Dad’s master bedroom.”

His eyes popped. “Your mom has my poster in her
bedroom
?”

Hannah turned around to face him, tilting her head. “Jason?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know what the word ‘gullible’ means?”

“Got that right,” Marissa teased.

The grin on his face drooped. “Oh. No poster?”

Hannah picked up his hand and patted it. “No poster. Sorry, Jason. She
really did have it bad for you. But then, what do you expect after writing a
song like
A Mother’s Love?
Every mother on the planet thought you were
the perfect son.”

“That’s because none of them had to pick up after him,” Laura quipped, taking
the plate Hannah handed her. She reached for a piece of toast and took a bite
as she stood. “I’m going to eat in the den while I read the paper, if you all
will excuse me. After all, I’m on vacation now, too.”

Jason snatched a chunk of cheddar then whined like a spoiled brat.
“Where’s
m
y omelet?”

“I’m outta here too.” Marissa put her empty plate in the sink. “Gevin’s
slept long enough. He’s still sprawled out on the floor in the loft where I
left him last night. I hope it’s okay I snuck down the hall and found an empty
bed to sleep in.”