A Broken Christmas by Claire Ashgrove

Author:Claire Ashgrove [Ashgrove, Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2011-10-24T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

The easy way tradition settled around Kyle, surprised him. Moments ago, he’d been wound up in the same knots that refused to unclench. But as he wrestled with straightening the star, remembrances of how many times this damn piece of tinsel and plastic had refused to sit any way but cockeyed, surfaced. One year, he’d almost thrown it across the room. Aimee rescued the poor star a nanosecond before it left his fingers and eased his frustration with a kiss so sweet, he questioned how ambrosia could be the nectar of the gods.

They’d made love in front of the fireplace, and afterward, he hung the star the same crooked way he had each time before.

What he really craved was the scent of pine. This fake tree just didn’t hold the same appeal.

He stepped back and squinted at the uncooperative tree topper. One of these days, he was going to replace…

The thought died as quickly as it surfaced. This would be the last time that star would push him to the limits of insanity. When Aimee left, there would be no more Christmas trees, no more hand-made stockings on the mantel, and no pine wreaths on the front door to tickle his nose when he walked inside.

His gaze strayed up the staircase to their bedroom, where wrapping paper rustled. Longing wrenched his heart. In two weeks, that room would be empty, and he had never spent a single night in this house alone. God above, what he would give if they could go back to the summer they’d decided children would be smart and change his mind.

What he’d do to be normal once again.

A dark shadow on the gold star made him frown. Damned thing had a light out. How appropriate. It never seemed to fail in its maddening existence.

Kyle hobbled to the foot of the stairs. “Aimee? Where’s that box of replacement lights? This thing’s got a bulb out.”

“Um.” Wrapping paper crackled. “I think it’s in the basement. Don’t worry about it. I probably stacked a bunch of stuff on top of the Christmas boxes.”

Don’t worry about it—had she forgotten the waging war between him and the star? He chuckled as he picked up his cane and trudged to the kitchen and the basement door. A distant flicker of red light beyond the dining room’s picture window gave him pause. Bulb temporarily forgotten, he drifted to the wide pane, scrubbed a clear spot in the frost, and gazed out at their neighbor’s decorated house, further up the woodsy incline.

On top of the peaked roof sat a lighted sleigh and two reindeer. Kyle couldn’t help but smile. Aimee and he still played Santa. Granted, their version was often a bit more…adult, and cookies and milk had never been so erotic as a child. Still, the sight of the magical sleigh drew him further into the magic of the holiday. Traditions were made for a reason, and if this was the last Christmas he had with Aimee, he would make it as memorable as their first.

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