My Kind of Christmas

more than that. All day long I’ve been thinking that it would be smart, maybe even kind, to stop this thing before it goes any further.”
    She ran her fingers through the hair at his temples for just a moment before she grabbed his head in her hands and went after his mouth like it might be the last kiss of her life. When she finally broke free she said, “You talk too much and you think too much.”
    “I don’t want you to be hurt,” he said.
    “Then try not to take off too early! I know you have a plane ticket. I wrote the date in my calendar. Until we get to that date, I’d like to enjoy myself. You know, Paddy, I’m not some naive little girl. I know this isn’t a happily-ever-after sort of thing—and I’m okay with that.” She shook her head. “Leave it to me to pick a guy as controlling as my mother. Here’s a good rule of thumb, Paddy. Don’t do anything ‘for my own good’!”
    He couldn’t help but laugh at her. “Are you sure you want me to employ that rule, my little hussy?”
    “Not entirely,” she said softly.
    “My brothers are afraid I’m going to hurt you by leaving. After our little ‘interlude.’”
    “Interlude. I like that. Is that what usually happens? You love the girls and break their hearts?”
    He gave a short laugh. “No, not so much.”
    “Oh?” she probed. “Care to share?”
    He laughed a bit uncomfortably. “Seems like it was either a mutual decision that things weren’t going anywhere or…” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Or I was dumped.”
    “Oh, Patrick. If we’d met under different circumstances, I’d hold on to you until you begged me to let go.”
    “Would you now?” he asked, smiling.
    “If I’d met you last year, if you lived and worked nearby, if there weren’t so many weird complications and— Listen, Paddy, things change when you almost die. In fact, I suspect I did die, if briefly. This little time we’re here together in Virgin River—it feels like it could be a watershed experience. Hmm? I’ll go with it if you will.”
    “You suspect you died?” he asked. “What’s that about?”
    She cringed. “Listen, I haven’t told anyone except Dr. Temple…”
    “We’re telling each other a lot of things never told before,” he said.
    “I saw myself,” she said. “From above. I was looking down at myself while a whole bunch of people were working on me, around me. I saw my grandmother, who died years ago. She looked wonderful. I don’t know if it was a dream, something I was programmed to imagine under the circumstances or if it was the real deal. She was in a halo of light and she lifted her hand and said, ‘It’s okay, Angie. Everything is going to be all right.’ When I woke up, three days had passed and I was on the vent.”
    His lips were parted in either disbelief or awe. He finally closed his mouth and swallowed. “You were close to her?” he asked.
    “Very close. My mother was her eldest—I’m the oldest grandchild. We were together a lot when I was little.”
    “Do you ever…see her in your dreams? Get messages from her in dreams?”
    “I think she’s been in a dream or two, but not like that night. That night there was all that light.” She shook her head. “I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, but—”
    “I don’t,” he whispered. Then he seemed to shake himself. “So, I’m not opting out. Tell me how you’d like to spend this interlude. When you’re not working or researching this gift of surgery, of course. When you can fit me in.”
    She smiled devilishly. “Well, I’ve got plenty of time right now…and I have a pretty good idea of how I’d like to spend it....”
    And his smile widened. “Yeah, my kind of girl.” He lifted her in his arms. “Do you need food first?”
    “I can eat anytime,” she said. “Right now I’m just craving you.”
    * * *
    Patrick nuzzled Angie’s neck in the early morning. “You had sex on the first date. And the second.”
    “When you’re me, you’re a little more afraid of not living than of living too much.”
    He brushed the hair away from her brow and placed a kiss there. “I’m starting to understand what has your family a little freaked out. Might be your ‘commitment to living,’ as it were.”
    “I have no intention of being reckless,” she said. “I just don’t want to waste away in a lab or library while life goes on around me. You know why I haven’t had boyfriends? Real boyfriends? Because I’ve been