My Kind of Christmas

I’ve worked on countless science projects and checked over more homework than a sane woman can bear. Please, can you cut me some slack?”
    Angie laughed. “Damn Beth and Jenna. I’ll get you all fixed up and they’ll get the benefits.” She wiped at her eyes and that fast Jack was beside their table.
    “Donna, did you make her cry?”
    “No!”
    “No, Jack—we were making up, actually,” Angie said. She took a breath. “I’m going back to the kitchen to get a bowl of soup. Want one, Mom?”
    “Thanks, honey.”
    As soon as Angie was in the kitchen, Jack bore down on Donna. “What was that?”
    “New rules of engagement, Jack. I need my daughter in my life and I’m just arrogant enough to think she still needs me. I threw myself on her mercy. I think she was touched, actually.”
    “Is that right? Will you be leaving now?”
    She shook her head. “I need to stay awhile. And I’m going to do what I can to be supportive without interfering.”
    “Why don’t you get back to the family and leave that to us—me and Mel, Brie and Mike.”
    “Because, Jack. My little girl is in love with a fine young man. It’s going to really sting when he goes. And he has to go, we all know that. I want to be here for her if she needs me.”

Fourteen
    A ngie introduced her mother to the Riordans, including Maureen and George. They all had dinner together in one of those fantastic gang meals hosted by Jilly, cooked by Kelly. And the next night, Jack’s was full of family and friends. On both nights she went home alone, convincing Patrick that if his mother called or dropped by, she wanted him to be there. One more night and she’d be going to Davis, so on this night she was back at the cabin early so she’d be able to get up early. When she pulled into the clearing, she burst into laughter.
    There sat the Jeep. Smoke curled from the chimney and the Christmas lights were turned on. Now one of the smaller pines wore lights and balls—Patrick had been at it again.
    She walked in and found him sitting on the sofa in front of the fire, stocking feet up on the chest, a small glass with some dark amber liquor in it. His travel duffel sat just inside the door.
    “You trimmed my tree,” she said.
    “That’s right. And I’m going to trim you next.” And then he smiled that lopsided smile and his green eyes glowed in the firelight. “Everyone knows we’re going to bed early so we can get up at 4:00 a.m. to drive to Davis. No one is going to call or come over. It’s just you and me. You’re not getting rid of me this time.”
    She shrugged out of her jacket and kicked off her boots. “What have you got there?” she asked, indicating the glass.
    “I little brandy to warm your mood and help you snuggle up next to me, which by the way I want to do every night until that black day comes when we have to go back to reality.”
    She saw the brandy and a glass sitting on the counter, waiting for her. She poured herself a small amount and went to sit with him. “What did you do with yourself today? Besides trimming my tree?”
    “I spent plenty of time with Maureen, George and my brothers so we’d be left alone tonight. And I copped a container of Kelly’s duck soup for when we’re hungry later. I borrowed a thermos from Jilly for coffee for the drive.”
    She touched his beautiful face. “You’re doing a very good job of making yourself unforgettable, Paddy.”
    “You’ll forget me in no time, babe.”
    Angie knew better, but she wasn’t going to show her weak side. She opted in this relationship knowing the facts.
    Soup followed brandy and bed followed soup. Patrick undressed her and touched her slowly. Carefully. When he slipped his hand below her waist he smiled. “I wish you could really know what it means to me, that you’re ready for me the second I touch you.”
    She laughed softly. “Patrick, I get ready at the sound of your voice. And it’s not something I do on purpose, either. That line from the movie—‘You had me at hello’—they weren’t talking about what people thought.” And then she laid a deep kiss on him, sliding her hand over the bulge in his pants. “Hello,” she whispered against his lips.
    He moved over her, gently building the tension in her with fingers and lips until she was asking, Please please please, and he laughed low in his throat. Then he satisfied her, leaving both of them panting.
    “God,” she whispered. “How do you do it?”
    “I listen to you,” he