Blue Christmas (The Moody Blue Trilogy | Book One) (7 page)

“We have a history
together. We both like the same music.”

“That would be an
understatement,” Hannah laughed. “Confessions of a former groupie and all
that.”  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and darted her eyes away
from his.

He leaned back and
smiled at her. In fact, he realized he couldn’t stop looking at her.

What is it? Why
is this girl getting under my skin? I don’t even know her. She’s kinda cute . . .
and the gawking is long gone, thank God. But just look at her—she’s relaxed
like she’s been here a thousand times before. What’s that about? And why did
Mom invite her over here tonight anyway? That’s so not Mom.

He watched her
squirm under his gaze.

She looked away, stretching
her arms over her head, yawning. “What time is it anyway? I can’t keep my eyes
open.”

Jason peeked at
the clock over the counter. It’s only 2:30. The night’s still young!” He stood
up. “And don’t you even think about pulling that sleepy stuff. You promised
another game if I lost.” He headed back to the pool table. “You owe me a game.”

“No way. I’m beat.
If you’ll recall, I put in a full day at work before your Mom kidnapped me.”

“Oh yeah, poor
baby. And here’s where I’m supposed to get all sympathetic and understanding,
right? Forget it. Look, I’ll get us something to drink and make some popcorn.
Mom keeps the kitchen down here stocked. What do you want—a Coke? Dr. Pepper?”

He could tell she
was exhausted but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want the night to end. He
watched her tortured yawn and felt a twinge of guilt for keeping her up, but it
passed.

Hannah burrowed
into the sofa, dropping her head back against the cushions.  “How come none of
those fan magazines ever told what a cruel person you are?”

“Because I’m not.
I’m just stubborn. Now what’ll it be?” He moved back toward the sofa, standing beside
her. He noticed her long lashes fanning the top of her cheeks as her eyelids drooped
then closed. She was just so . . . natural.

That’s it.
That’s what makes her so different. She’s natural. Not forced. Nothing striking
or stunning. Just fresh and natural. And extremely appealing.

“Hannah, don’t you
fall asleep.”

Nothing.

“Don’t you even
think about falling asleep.”

Nothing.

“HANNAH!”

“What?!” She
jumped with a start. “Don’t do that! Jason, you scared me to death!”

He grabbed her
hands, pulling her to her feet. “You’ve gotta wake up, woman! You see, I’m just
a poor, poor boy who needs a little company here. Can you hep’ me out, ma’am?
Won’t you hep dis po’ boy?” He batted his eyelashes at her, plastering a silly
grin across his face as he backed up, pulling her along to the bar. “Pweeze
keep wittle Jason comp’ny, pweeze?”

“Now, that’s
pitiful. Just pitiful. Don’t tell me that actually works on some of your fans?”

He deposited her
on a bar stool then stepped behind the counter. “Sorry. State secrets. I could
tell you but—”

“—you’d have to
shoot me. Right. That’s okay. I don’t really want to know.”

“So? What’s your
poison?”

“Coke straight up
with a side of popcorn. And back off. I’m a witch when I’m tired. Just ask my
little brother.”

“You have a
brother? Come to think of it, we’ve talked about me all night.” He handed her a
tall glass of iced Coke. “Typical. Because, of course, it’s
all
about
me.” He dropped his head in mocked shame. “I’m so sorry. Tell me about your
family, Hannah. What’s your brother’s name?”

“Greg. He’s a
linebacker for FSU.”

“Get outta here!
Your brother plays for FSU? He must be good.”

“Yeah, he’s great.
He drove me nuts when we were kids. But then I gave him a lot of grief too.”

“Any other
brothers or sisters?”

“Nope, just Greg.
And then there’s my mom and dad. They still live in Dallas where I grew up. Dad
has his own business, an internet company. Mom’s in real estate. Loves it. Then
there’s Sassy, our Maltese. She’s getting up there in doggy years, but she’s
still part of the family. I had her up here at my apartment for a while, but
I’m gone so much with work, it wasn’t fair to her. I took her back home to my
parents at Thanksgiving.”

“Yikes! I just
remembered Baby! I’ll be right back,” he yelled flying up the stairs. In a few
moments, he was back. “You won’t believe this—she’s all curled up, sleeping on
top of the comforter, right between Mom and Dad. I can’t believe it!”

“I take it your
folks like dogs, huh?”

“Yeah, but I’ve
never known Mom to let one sleep on her bed. Must be that Christmas spirit she
always gets. Which would explain the extra place setting at the table tonight.”

She blushed. He
loved it.

“Okay, now where
were we? Oh, you’ve told me about your family, but what about you? What are you
majoring in?”

“Journalism. I
like to write. Mostly freelance. I’ve had several pieces published already,
but—”

“What kind of
pieces? What do you write?”

“You name it.
Mainly human interest stories. I’ve done some interviews for the paper. I did a
piece on the history of McMurphy’s that was—”

“You mean the
coffee shop over by the campus?”

“Yeah, that’s the
one. It’s been around for almost a hundred years and has a fascinating list of
people who’ve worked there while they were in school. Quite a history—two United
States senators, a Supreme Court judge, and five NBA players. That was a
blast to write—and what exactly are you grinning at?”

“You. Did you know
your whole face lights up when you talk about your writing? It’s like a hundred
watt bulb just clicked on inside you. You really love it, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I
do. It’s a tough business to break into, but I love it. Sometimes there are so
many different things floating around in my head I want to write about or
research that it almost feels like I’m going to explode. My fingers can’t fly
fast enough across the keyboard. I’ll get absolutely lost in what I’m writing
and realize that hours have flown by and I didn’t even know it.”

“That’s
exactly
how I feel when I’m writing music.” Jason rounded the bar and pulled up a stool
beside her. “Sometimes I forget to eat or sleep or anything until I finish a
song—”

“—and when you do,
it’s like you’ve given birth to your own child, right?”

“Well, yeah, but
then I’ve never experienced childbirth so it’s a little hard to say.”

“Jason!” she
laughed. “I haven’t either, thank you very much. But you know what I mean.”

“Well, for what
it’s worth, I think that’s totally cool that you have such a passion for what
you do. Stay with it. Don’t ever give up. Make a living doing the thing you
love to do most? It’s the only way.”

She watched him
take another shot.

“And that, my dear
lady, is how you win at pool. Ha! You’re mine. ALL WEEK!”

Hannah’s jaw
dropped. “That is so unfair! You cheated.”

“What? I beg your
pardon. I do not cheat. Not at pool. Not at anything.”

“You did too! You
distracted me with all these questions. That’s not fair. I demand a rematch.”

“Too late.
Besides, I’m exhausted. It’s now 3:35 in the morning. I can’t believe how
inconsiderate you are. You come into our home, you eat our food, then you have
the audacity to keep me up all night after my long drive up here. On Christmas,
no less.”

He finished
putting away the cue sticks, continuing his faux rant. Then, digging his hands
dug deep into his pockets, he slowly walked over to stand beside her. They
leaned against the back of the sofa. “By the way, Merry Christmas, Hannah.” His
eyebrows danced in mischief.

Hannah shrugged in
resignation. She nodded, folding her arms across her chest and peeking sideways
at Jason, noting the smirk still spread on his face. “Merry Christmas, Jason. I
suppose you still believe in Santa?”

“Well, of course I
do. How else could I explain you being here?”

Their eyes locked
for only a second before she attempted a smile then looked away. Suddenly his
arm was over her shoulder.

“See, I don’t
think for a second that Mom really conned you away from that grocery store.”

Heartbreaker,
heartbreaker, heartbreaker . . .
The warning pounded against
her ears again like a fog horn.
Careful, Hannah, careful.

“I know for a fact that
Santa dropped you off earlier this evening just before I came home. How do I
know that, you ask? Because on my way home, I said a little prayer.”

She made a face and started
to interrupt—

“Don’t laugh. It’s true. I
did. I asked God to make this a very special Christmas. Not just for me but for
my whole family. And I walk in the door and there you are. Part of the family
on Christmas Eve. How else would I explain it?”

Her cheeks warmed. “Jason, I
think you need some sleep.”

“I do. And so do
you. But I have a favor to ask.”

“No, your dog is
not sleeping in my room.”

He tossed his head
back laughing. “Sorry, she’s already spoken for. No, this one’s selfish. A
Christmas kiss. You. Me. Here. Now?” He paused, his eyes pleading. “I could
grab some mistletoe if that would help.”

Laura’s subtle warning
about her son’s charm echoed over and over in her mind. But she couldn’t
suppress the smile creeping up her face.
Good grief. We only met a few hours
ago and here I am, dying for him to kiss me. Gotta be a dream. I’ll wake up
tomorrow and be totally depressed from the world’s longest, best dream.
She
felt him move a little closer beside her.

“Look, you
probably think I’m being kind of forward. But seriously, I’m not talking any
deep down, tonsil-washing kiss or anything.”

She chuckled,
uneasy by the intensity in his eyes. Then, the sweetness of his gentle smile—a
smile so familiar yet so sincere—sent a surge of heat from her head to her
toes.

“Just a little
merry-Christmas-nice-to-know-you kiss. That’s all,” he breathed.

“You mean ‘a quiet
simple kiss’?”

His smiled
broadened at her reference to one of his famous lyrics. “That’s right. Just a
quiet simple kiss.”

No more voices in
her head. No more excuses. She surrendered with the slightest nod of her head. She
followed his searching eyes as he looked back and forth from her eyes . . .
to her lips . . . to her eyes . . . She felt dizzy.

Finally, he leaned
down, his lips warm and moist against hers. She closed her eyes in the closest
thing to heaven she’d ever known. He exhaled, a quiet sigh escaping from
somewhere inside him. And then it was over.

She savored the
moment, refusing to open her eyes. “Never been kissed like that before,” she
whispered.

“Uh oh. Did I do
something wrong?” he whispered back.

“Oh no. You did
everything perfect. That’s what I mean. It was . . . perfect.”

He slipped his arm
around her waist pulling her closer against his side. It felt so natural. Like
a brotherly gesture.

Only better.
Much
better.

“Merry Christmas,
Hannah.”

“Merry Christmas, Jason.”

Chapter 5

H
annah showered and slipped into the pajamas Laura
had left for her on the bed. She was pulling on the thick chenille robe when
she heard a soft knock on the bathroom door. Scrambling to wrap the robe around
her, she answered, “Yes?”

“Hannah, it’s me Jason.”

“Jason, what do
you want?”

“I was just
thinking. Are you really that tired?”

“Yes, I’m
exhausted. Why?”

“Well, hurry up
and come out here and I’ll tell you.”

She looked in the
mirror, realizing she’d washed all her makeup off.
Great. Now what?
She
ran a brush through her hair then sighed, knowing it was too late for any
beauty tricks. She gathered her clothes and opened the door. Jason sat on the
floor of her room—well, JT’s room—leaning against the wall spinning a
basketball on his finger.

“Jason, don’t you
ever sleep? Do you know how late it is?”

He jumped up still
playing with the basketball. “I know, I know, but you’ve got to remember my day
is my night.” His scrunched his face. “That didn’t make any sense, did it?”

“Not exactly.” She
headed over to her bed.
JT’s bed . . .

“Okay. See, when
we’re on the road we’re up all night and sleep most of the day. And it’s
impossible to get my times switched around. So downstairs, I thought I was
tired until I realized I wasn’t.

“You’re not making
any sense.”

“I know. So I was
thinking—well, I was just wondering if you wanted to watch a movie or
something. There’s a loft up here, just down the hall. Fireplace, entertainment
center, you name it. C’mon, I can’t sleep and I’d love the company. What d’ya
say?”