The Music of Christmas Read online

  The Music of Christmas

  Jennifer Conner

  The Music of Christmas

  Copyright 2011

  By Books to Go Now

  For information on the cover illustration and design, contact [email protected]

  First eBook Edition –November 2010

  Printed in the United States of America

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.

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  The Music of Christmas

  Annie adjusted the flashlight on the back of the couch for what seemed like the hundredth time. She fought to get additional light on the paperback she was reading, but it was a losing battle. The electricity to her small one bedroom house had been out for five hours, and the cold from outside was beginning to permeate the walls. Wind howled and rattled the shutters.

  She dressed in her favorite double flannel pajamas, two sweaters, a pair of wool socks, and Ugg boots. But dang it, she was still freezing. Annie refused to have some poor soul stuck coming out, on Christmas Eve, to work on her temperamental electrical lines. The temperature tonight dipped well below the teens. She had the phone in her hand more than a few times to call the power company, but decided she could tough it out until morning. She would call the power company bright and early, and hope they would make a call in daylight… on a holiday.

  With a few more wool blankets, she’d make it.

  There was a sharp rap on the door. Annie simultaneously dropped her flashlight and the book with a thud to the floor. She scrambled to grab the light, unwound herself from the blankets, and made her way to the door.

  Peering around the edge of the window, she spotted an energy company truck in her drive.

  With her stiff, cold fingers she turned the knob and swung open the door. A tall man dressed in blue coveralls and a heavy yellow coat glanced at a clipboard.

  “Is your power out, ma’am?”

  “I didn’t call, how did you know?”

  “I was off work, and just happened to be driving by. I noticed the line on your driveway looked snapped, and the house was black. I thought I would check to see if anyone was home, and needed help.” He pulled a work PDA device from a clip at his side. “If I can just get your name. I’ll log in where I am, and then I’ll start fixing your lines.”

  “Townsend. Annie Townsend. The address is six-four-two Pine Court.”

  He started to type, but his hand stilled. He pushed his hard hat back on his head and shined a flashlight her direction. “Well… I’ll be damned,” he mumbled.

  “Is there something wrong?” Annie knew she should have paid that late parking ticket fine, but she swore it wasn’t her fault.

  “Annie Townsend? Did you attend Blackstone College in Hillsburg?”

  “Yes…” she answered slowly. “That little gadget in your hand didn’t tell you that, did it?”

  “Sorry, you just threw me for a loop.” He held the flashlight so it would illuminate his face. “I’m Erik Mulhiem. I accompanied you on the piano when we went to school. Do you remember me?”

  “Of course, Erik. Hey, it’s great to see you again.”

  “I always wondered if you moved out of the area.”

  “Nope, still here. My parents left me this house. They moved to Florida.” Annie looked over his shoulder to see the snow swirl around the porch. “Good God, where are my manners. Come in before you freeze.”

  “I shouldn’t. My boots are muddy.”

  “Hardwood floors, really, you can’t damage them. I insist.”

  Erik stomped his feet and came through the door. He pulled off his hardhat and ran a hand through his black hair. He watched her for a long moment before he said, “You look great, Annie.”

  She let out a short, embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, that’s me tonight. The height of fashion. I could be on the Paris runway. I am a fashion queen.”

  “Tell me you went into music.”

  She shook her head. “Sorry. Had to pay the bills. I dabbled a bit, but then I just gave it up.”

  “Don’t you miss singing?”

  “Sure.” She shrugged one shoulder. “But, music doesn’t always fit into one’s life the way you want it to.”

  His smile warmed his hazel eyes. “I better get out there and see what’s going on with your lines.” When he opened the door, the cold air slapped her like a hand. He pulled it closed and disappeared into the dark.

  Annie sat in the windowsill and watched Erik work on the lines for hours. He tugged and wound the electric cable, as he trudged back and forth in the snow. He yanked the door open to the cab of his truck and she could tell he was making a call.

  When he headed towards the house and up the stairs, he knocked once. “Well, I have bad news and bad news,” he said when she opened the door.

  “I’ll take the good news.”

  “There is no ‘good news’”. A frown knit his brows. “There’s more wrong with the lines then I originally thought. I called my partner, Alan, but he said we just got off a double shift, and he wasn’t coming back on no matter what I said. He has to put his kid’s bike together for a delivery from ‘Santa’. I called headquarters, but they are down a few trucks, and none are available.”

  “So you’re telling me I’m out of luck.”

  “I can try and repair it, but it can be dangerous for just one person to work on old lines like these. If you want me too, I will.”

  “No way!” Annie felt her eyes widen. “That isn’t what I meant. It’s Christmas Eve for goodness sake.” She hit herself in the forehead. “I just caught what you said earlier, you’re off work. You stood out in this terrible weather and you’re not even on the clock?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re going to freeze in here without heat. Tomorrow’s Christmas. Who knows how long it will be until you have electricity.” He paused for a moment. “Come back to my place. I’ve got a spare room… with heat.” He shot her a grin. “We’ve known each other for years, so I would hope you know the only thing I kill are piano keys, and not beautiful young women.’

  “I couldn’t. As you said, tomorrow’s Christmas. You probably have a big family gathering somewhere, with eggnog and holiday cheer. You can’t be taking in a stray.”

  “Only child. My parents passed away. The only thing you’re right about is the eggnog. I do love the stuff. I buy it buy the gallons and make lattes. I’m surprised I don’t weight a thousand pounds.”

  Annie looked him up and down. Even with the bulky coat, she doubted he had any extra pounds of anything but muscle.

  “I… can’t. I look like something the cat drug in.”

  “I can’t wait for you to meet Bridget.”

  Damn. She knew it was too good to be true. “Girlfriend. Wife?” She asked.

  “Bridget? Yeah, she’s my girlfriend.” For some odd reason, Annie’s heart sank
before he added, “she’s my year old Golden Retriever. She thinks the sun rises and sets on me when I come home. It’s kind of nice.”

  “A dog?”

  “Don’t let her hear you call her that. She thinks she’s people. I’m sure you two will have much in common, being fellow strays and all. So come on. Heat. Hot Chocolate. I have It’s a Wonderful Life on DVD.”

  “I just don’t want to intrude.”

  “Intrude on me sitting alone for the rest of Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning? That would be a shame,” he said with a quick grin and a dose of sarcasm. “Pack up what you need, including your favorite ugly, festive Christmas sweater, and we’ll head out.”

  Annie tried to think of all the reasons she shouldn’t go, but found herself asking, “Hot chocolate?”

  “I have some European sipping chocolate, and there was this new thing at the store, mini-marshmallows dipped in dark chocolate to sprinkle on the top.”

  She faked a swoon. “You had me at the eggnog.”

  Erik pulled his work truck up to the front of a modest brick one-story house. “Home sweet home.”

  When he opened the front door, Bridget, nearly tackled him. She put her big paws on his chest and gave him a lick on the cheek.

  “Told you. She loves me.”

  The house looked like a ‘single-guy’s’ in tones of browns and blues, with a big-screen TV in the middle of the living room. But it was neat and tidy. In one corner, there was a small white flocked Christmas tree with blue and green balls, and flashing white lights.

  He led her down the hall to a small bedroom off the kitchen. He moved a few storage containers to the side. The bed was already made.

  Erik turned the heat dial on the wall and a blessed blast of hot air fanned her face and hair. “It heats up fast, you’ll be surprised that you’ll have to turn it down.” He paused and looked around. “I hate to drop you and dash, but I have a confession. My toes are completely numb. I’m going to have to leave for a few minutes and take a hot shower, or I think they will fall off.”

  She felt heat blush her cheeks. “You didn’t have to stay out there to work on that stupid line for two hours.”

  He smiled. It put dimples in his cheeks. “Not your fault. I was a man with a mission, and I failed miserably. Make yourself comfortable. I have no idea what’s in the fridge, but mi casa es su cas. I’m going to thaw out my ice-block feet.”

  There was no way Annie was spending the rest of the evening in her flannel jammies and Ugg boots. She’d thrown her favorite red v-neck sweater dress and a black lace bra and panties in her bag. She’d always thought Erik was drop-dead cute, and wanted him as more than just her music partner, but, he’d always kept their time together professional. Nothing more.

  She wandered out into the living room, then the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator. A partial bottle of wine sat near the front. Annie poured two glasses. Taking one for herself, she moved over to look at the framed photos above the fireplace mantle. There was a picture of her and Erik as they held up the silver medals they’d won at the state music competition.

  Erik came out of the side bathroom and padded barefoot to the kitchen. He definitely wasn’t the gawky post-teen he was back then. He’d filled out very nice. A soft green sweater clung to his broad chest.

  He picked up his wine glass. “That competition was a very special day for me.”

  “Me too,” Annie admitted.

  “I had such a crush on you. I barely thought straight half the time when you were there.”

  “Really? You never… we were together every day. I thought you didn’t like me, you were always so stern.”

  “You were dating the head of the jazz choir. Stan Studley, sorry, I mean Stedman.”

  She lifted the frame and looked closer at the photo. “I never saw you after that day. It was like you disappeared.”

  “I needed to make a clean break. You had someone in your life. There was no second place for a second man.”

  “Too bad you left so soon. A week after the state competition, Stan ran off with our voice coach.”

  “Mrs. Wodsworth? She was married. He left you, for her?” He tipped his glass her direction. “He had no idea what he missed out on. You look.... if that’s your ‘ugly’ Christmas sweater, I can’t wait to see your sexy one.”

  “I was tired of sitting around in wool and flannel. Hey, you saw me at my worse and you still brought me back here. So I tried to clean up a bit, just for you.” Annie walked across the room and ran her hand over the grand piano. She whistled through her teeth. “Nice. Where’d you get this?”

  “It was handed down from my grandmother, to my mother, and then to me.”

  “The piano’s beautiful. Do you still play?”

  “Everyday. I play on the weekends at a jazz club downtown. It helps me forget the stress of my days. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t.”

  “Play something,” she asked as she stood next to the seat.

  “Anything in particular?”

  “No. You always knew what I wanted to hear.”

  When his fingers touched the ivory, memories of the magic they’d shared through music flooded back. Annie laid her head on the piano. The piece was one of her favorites. “Beethoven. After he went deaf, I often wondered what he thought when he laid his head on his piano and tried to imagine how the music sounded.”

  “Magic,” was all Erik said and kept playing.

  “But, how could he know that? He couldn’t hear his music.”

  “You’re like me. We feel the music, we don’t need to hear it. It’s in our veins. At night when we’re asleep, we hear it in our dreams.”

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. She’d never met anyone who felt the same way she did, or at least admitted it.

  His face grew serious. “You said you don’t sing. How can live without it?”

  “I sing when I’m alone.”

  “That’s a shame.” The music grew. “Sing for me.” It was a simple request, but it sent a chill up her spine.

  She knew the music all too well. Looking down at the side of the piano her voice joined in with the notes he played. She hadn’t felt this good in months. How had she lived without it?

  When they finished, Erik stood and took a step toward her. “Thanks.”

  “You made me sound good. You always did.”

  “When you answered your door tonight, I couldn’t believe it was you. I’ve thought about you so many times in these past four years. I felt like I was in A Christmas Carol.”

  Annie chuckled. “Are you telling me you’re a Scrooge kind of guy?”

  “Not Scrooge, the message behind the tale. Seeing the future, past, and then the present all at once. Scrooge got a second chance to make things right. It makes me wonder what my life would be like if I’d got the nerve to tell you how I felt about you.”

  Her voice sounded small even her own ears, “How did you feel?”

  “I wanted you as mine, and let’s say I had the very active imagination of a red-blooded twenty year old. But I’m older now, and have much more self control… I think.” She met Erik’s gaze, saw the sexual chemistry that lurked in those hazel depths. “Let’s start with my grown up Christmas list. Can I kiss you?”

  Annie nodded once before Erik stepped in and took her in his arms. He brushed his finger over her lips. “I don’t know how it’s possible, but you’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

  She braced herself for his quick intense passion. But he fooled her.

  He pulled her closer and held her like a precious treasure. When his lips finally touched hers, his kiss was slow, just the softest brush of his lips, until she couldn’t breathe. Then he shared his breath and the glide of his tongue over hers.

  “This isn’t why I brought you here t
onight,” he admitted quietly.

  “I’m very stubborn. I don’t do things I don’t want to.”

  “I know.” He smiled against her lips. “I know everything about you… except what you’ve done for the last four years.”

  “We have lots of time to catch up… later.” Annie wound her hands around the back of his head and pulled him down. The kiss went from passive to aggressive in seconds. She floated on the sensation of his mouth against hers, and felt herself being pulled in.

  She ran a hand over the plane of his solid chest and tugged at his sweater. Erik stepped back to take his sweater over his head. Hard, warm skin with a dusting a dark hair, she couldn’t resist tangling her fingers in the dense curls over his pecs. When she raked her nails over him, he sucked in a shaky breath.

  Erik wound her dress in his fist and eased it over her head. As she stood in her bra and panties, he looked her up and down. There was intensity in his gaze, as he ran a thumb over the rise of her breast and across a nipple. He cupped her in his hand. “I can see you’re beautiful. But I need to know the details. I want to feel the texture of your skin with my tongue.”

  Was this really happening? Annie wondered if she’d fallen asleep. But there definitely weren’t any sugarplum dancing in her head. It was all thoughts of Erik.

  He slid the straps of her bra down and teased the tip of her nipple with his tongue, then blew cool air over her until they tightened to the point of pain. He nipped her between his teeth and Annie let out a low moan.

  She rained kisses over his face, teased the corner of his mouth, slid her tongue along the seam of his lips and watched desire flare in the depth of his eyes. He spun her on the pads of her feet and backed her against the grand piano. With a quick dash of his hand, he sent the plastic bowl of Christmas candy flying to the floor, and lifted her up on the piano.

  Erik slid her panties down and followed them with a trail of kisses to her ankle, then back up. His hot breath was against her, then the tip of his tongue. She cried and arched, as he slid a finger inside her. She was already wet, and so close to the edge. He stroked her and worked her like a fine tuned instrument.