A Vampire for Christmas - By Michele Hauf Page 0,53
listening to me when I mentioned I wanted a tree, but something small for my place. No one has ever given me such a thoughtful gift. For that, I’m going to let you have two cookies.” She pulled him into the kitchen and selected a warm candy cane cookie to hand him. “Can you eat food?”
“Yes, but I don’t need it for survival.” He took a bite and nodded his approval. “I think my mom used to make these. Did you have to twist the red dough with the white dough and then shape them like this?”
“Yes, making them always brings back memories of my mother.”
“She not around anymore?”
With a brave lift of her shoulders, Olivia nodded. “Died two years ago from a brain tumor. She was my biggest supporter and never got to see me hit the big time.”
It always strummed the broken chord in her heart to remember her mother’s brave last weeks fighting the tumor. Olivia had been on her own since, and missed having someone to confide in who wasn’t paid to listen and nod in agreement to everything she said.
“I always used to look to her for approval,” she said.
Driven, even as a child and through her teens, she’d had her mother’s unconditional support as she’d entered the world of professional singing. She had always asked her mother’s opinion whenever trying something new. Until recently, when her manager and the record label had suggested she take a risk and pair up for a duet with a hip-hop singer with hopes it would increase her appeal to listeners and rocket her to superstardom. Olivia had looked over her shoulder—but her mother hadn’t been there to nod approval. So she had shaken her head, and hadn’t been able to commit to the project.
So that’s why you invited the vampire in. He’s the risk you don’t dare take in your career.
Wow. Wonder what her mother would say about that? Likely she would have approved a vampire for her daughter’s lover because Mom had been open-minded enough to be fascinated with the pairing. Yet she might have steered Olivia away from allowing the man to bite her. Especially on the first date.
Lifting her chin, Olivia pasted on a smile that quickly turned genuine.
“Will you help me package the cookies and then take them around to the neighbors? It’ll put you in the Christmas spirit,” she added hopefully.
He slapped a hand across his jeans, wiping away cookie crumbs, but didn’t respond.
“Come on,” she said. “It won’t take long. The old guy who lives below me is a codger, but I bet these cookies will make him smile. I’ve a Santa hat with a white fluff ball on it you could wear—”
“I can’t do this.” He tossed the half-eaten cookie onto the kitchen counter.
With that act Olivia felt as if he’d just snapped his fingers across her broken heart chord. “Fine. You don’t have to come along, but if you could help me put some cookies on plates…?”
“Olivia, I…” He scrubbed a palm over his face then stated plainly, “I don’t need to feel the Christmas spirit. I just…don’t want to do this.”
“I see.” She tipped up his chin with a fingertip. His eyes didn’t meet hers, and she suspected she’d touched a dark spot on that blurry soul of his. “Who put the coal in your Christmas stocking?”
He looked aside. His tension was tangible but she couldn’t figure why.
“Daniel?”
With a heavy sigh, he clasped her hand in his and pressed it against his heart as he said, “You have your memories. I have mine. And mine are just as depressing.”
“Memories of my mother aren’t depressing. I remember the good times we shared together. What is it about Christmas that haunts you?”
He tilted back his head and shook it. “It would Scrooge you out.”
“Come on, I can take it.” The fact he hadn’t moved away from her and still held her hand meant he wasn’t ready to charge out of here, so Olivia tilted down her head and captured his gaze, pleading with him to share with her.
The vampire sighed. “Fine. Here’s the details. A year ago, a few days before Christmas, I was a normal mortal guy, minding my own business, going about my life, despite the fact that normal life was as an investment broker for the biggest trading firm on Wall Street. I was known as Killer in person, but behind my back I know their favorite term for me was asshole.”