It Came Upon A Midnight Clear. Suzanne Brockmann

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      He liked Nell too much to use her that way. And knowing what he knew about her, he would be using her.

      Crash forced himself to take a step back, to separate a little bit more from his emotions. He’d file his red-hot attraction for Nell in that mental holding area he’d created, right next to all the anger and grief and pain he felt over Daisy’s impending death. All he needed was just a little more distance, a little more detachment.

      But Nell finally moved, holding out her hand to him, stretching her arm across her desk. “I’ll accept your deal,” she said. “I want to state for the record, though, that I don’t usually cry at the drop of a hat.”

      He took her hand. It was so much smaller than his, her fingers slender and cool. Her grip was firm, and that, along with the crooked smile she gave him, almost made him toss his resolve out the window.

      He nearly asked her, point-blank, if she wanted to try to release some tension with him tonight. Daisy had purposely put them in bedrooms right next to each other. It wouldn’t be difficult for him to slip into her room and…

      Nell was looking at him, her eyes wide, as if she knew what he was thinking. But then he realized that he was still holding her hand. Quickly, he let it go.

      Detach.

      He cleared his throat. This entire conversation had started with evergreen trees, swing bands and poinsettias. “So, are Jake and Daisy throwing a Christmas party?”

      Nell lifted an eyebrow. “Do you really think they’d do something that mundane or predictable—or easy to plan? No, this is not your average Christmas party. I was just up in the studio while Daisy was painting,” she told him, “and Jake came in and asked her what she wanted to do tonight. He thought maybe she’d want to go to a movie. And she said that lately they only did what she wanted to do, and that wasn’t fair. She thought that tonight they should do something that Jake wanted. And they got into this discussion about Daisy’s list—the list of all the things she wants to do before…you know.”

      Crash nodded. He knew.

      “So Daisy said she thought it would be fair if Jake made a similar list, and he said that he didn’t need to. He said there was only one thing on his wish list—a wish that she would get well and live with him for another twenty years. And if he couldn’t have that, then his only other wish would be for her to marry him.”

      Crash felt a lump forming in his throat. After all this time, Jake still wanted Daisy to marry him.

      “So she said yes,” Nell continued softly.

      He tried to clear it, but it wouldn’t go away. “Just like that?”

      Nell nodded. “Yeah. She’s finally giving in.”

      Poor Jake. He’d wanted forever, but all he was getting was a cheap illusion.

      Crash felt helplessness and rage churning inside of him, fighting to break free and sweep him away like a tidal wave. It wasn’t fair. He had to look away from the gentle blue of Nell’s eyes, or, dammit, he was going to start to cry.

      And once he started, he’d never be able to stop.

      “Maybe,” Nell said quietly, “maybe knowing that Daisy loved him enough to give in and marry him will help. Maybe someday Jake will find some comfort in that.”

      Crash shook his head, still unable to meet her gaze. He stood up, knowing that if he just walked away, she would understand. But she’d also asked for his help. He sat back down, willing himself to detach even more, to stop feeling so damn much. He took a deep breath and let it slowly out. And when he spoke, his voice was even. “So now we’re planning a wedding.”

      “Yup. Daisy said yes, and then turned to me and asked if I could take care of the details—in exactly three weeks. Of course, I said yes, too.” She laughed, and it came out sounding just on the verge of hysterical, just a little bit giddy. “Please, please say that you’ll help me.”

      “I’ll help you.”

      She briefly closed her eyes. “Thank God.”

      “But I don’t have a lot of experience with weddings.”

      “Neither do I.”

      “In fact, I tend to avoid weddings like the plague,” he admitted.

      “All of my college friends who are married either eloped or got married on the other coast,” Nell said. “I’ve never even been to a real wedding. The closest I’ve ever gotten was watching the TV broadcast of Princess Diana’s wedding to Prince Charles when I was little.”

      “That probably had just a little bit more flash and fanfare than Daisy and Jake are going to want.”

      Nell laughed, and then stopped short. He’d just made a joke. That had been a joke, hadn’t it?

      He wasn’t smiling, but there definitely was a glint of something in his eyes. Amusement. Or was it tears?

      Crash turned his head and examined the toe of his boot. With his lids lowered, Nell couldn’t see his eyes, and when he looked up again, he was carefully devoid of all expression.

      “We should probably make a list of all the essential supplies for a wedding,” he suggested.

      “We’ve got the bride and the groom. They’re pretty essential, and we can already cross them off the list.”

      “But they’ll need clothes.”

      “A wedding gown—something funky that’ll make Daisy feel as if she’s still thumbing her nose at convention.” Nell started an Internet search. “There must be some kind of wedding checklist somewhere that we can use—so we don’t forget something important.”

      “Like wedding rings.”

      “Or—God!—someone to perform the ceremony.” She looked up, pushing the phone and the yellow pages toward him. “Trees,” she said. “A half a dozen twelve-foot Christmas trees. Live.”

      “Delivered ASAP,” he said. “You can already cross it off your list.” He reached for the phone, but she didn’t let it go, and he looked up at her.

      “Thanks,” she said quietly. They both knew she was talking about more than just his help with this project.

      Crash nodded. “You can cross that off your list, too.”

      “A prenuptial agreement?” Nell’s voice was loaded with disbelief.

      Crash paused in the kitchen doorway, looking in to find her sitting at the table across from Dexter Lancaster, Jake and Daisy’s lawyer.

      She’d made them both tea, and she sat with her hands wrapped around her cup, as if she were cold.

      Lancaster was a big man. He had at least five inches and seventy pounds on Crash, but most of those pounds were the result of too many doughnuts and Danishes in the morning and too many servings of blueberry cheesecake at night. Age and a sweet tooth had conspired to take the sharp edges off Lancaster’s WASP-y good looks and as a result, СКАЧАТЬ