Horses in the City

Sol roared. "Good one, boy! About time someone did that!" He laughed all the way back to his seat.

"You, either." Luke turned to Emma. "I was hoping you might be able to leave a little early. I have a surprise for you."

"Oh. Well." Emma blushed, too, and cleared her throat. "Millie was just trying to make me leave, so I guess I can."

"Good." He kissed her. "Just let me get some food in me and I'll be good to go."

"Sure." Emma nodded and Luke walked back to join Sol. She turned to Millie, who was frozen in place. "You okay, Millie?"

"I don't know whether to thank him or smack him." Millie shook her head to clear it. "My God, I haven't been surprised like that in...a long time."

Emma laughed. "It's Christmas. Time for surprises, right?"

"Not for me." Millie was brusque. "Now, you go get their orders so we can all go home. I've had enough of this. It's Christmas Eve, for God's sake, and my bunions need a rest. I'm putting up the closed sign."

Emma ignored her nerves until Luke and Sol were finished and Luke was ready to walk her home. Then they surfaced with a vengeance.

"Ready to go?" Luke smiled as she went back for her coat. She found herself blinking back tears when he held it for her, a gentlemanly gesture she hadn't had from anyone in longer than she could remember.

"Yeah, I think so." She did up the buttons and pulled on her hat and gloves. "Good night, Sol. Good night, Millie. Merry Christmas."

"Yeah, yeah, Merry Christmas." Millie looked up from the register. "Remember, we're closed tomorrow so you can't hide in here."

"Ignore her, Emma." Sol came up and, much to Emma's surprise, gave her a grandfatherly kiss on the cheek. "She's just an old grump, like me. You have a nice Christmas."

Luke stared at his friend, stunned.

Sol scowled. "What? I'm overwhelmed by the Christmas spirit." He pushed the door open and left. There was a moment of silence, and then Luke and Emma burst out laughing. Even Millie couldn't keep her lips from twitching.

"Go on, get out of here." Millie jerked her head towards the door. "I'm closed."

Still laughing, Emma stepped out while Luke held the door for her. Luke draped an arm around her shoulder. "I wish I'd had that on camera. Evidence that Sol has a heart."

"Of course he has a heart." Emma elbowed him in the side. "He just likes to cover it up. He has more fun being a curmudgeon."

"Curmudgeon is a tactful way of putting it." Luke stopped at the corner and took her hands in his. "Okay, enough talk about Sol. Let's talk about us, and Christmas."

"Okay. What about it?" Emma looked at him, curious and a little apprehensive.

"Well, I'd like to spend it with you." He kissed her forehead. "If that's all right." He gave her wry grin. "If you don't want to, I can say okay, I'll be the suffering artist but I'd much, much rather be with you."

"I would really like that." Emma looked down at their intertwined hands. "I am so...tired of being lonely and sad on Christmas."

Luke could imagine, all too easily, what her last couple of Christmases had been like. He was determined to change it, for both of them.

"Then come on. Let's go inside, have some hot chocolate, sit by a tree and listen to some music." He tugged her hand and they crossed the street.

"Wait." Emma was puzzled. "Where are we going?"

Luke grinned. "You'll see."

Her puzzlement grew as they walked closer to her apartment. She'd expected that he might call a cab to go to his place after his words about sitting by a tree. Yet he continued walking down the sidewalk, turning onto her street, and saying nothing. Well, if his idea of a tree is a spider plant, then I guess we'll go to my place.

Luke opened the door to her building and as they went up the stairs, she got the first indication that he was nervous as he pulled at the hair near his collar. She also realized that he looked exhausted. He'd shaved, but there was a light stubble on his cheeks and he had circles under his eyes.

"Luke, are you all right?" she asked as they passed the first landing.

"Me? Sure." He turned back to her and grinned, but tugged at his hair again.

"You've been writing too much." Emma put a hand on his arm. "You've been writing and driving and not sleeping. You should just sleep."

"Maybe later." He covered her hand with his. "I'm fine, Emma, really. Come on."

He stepped back at her door and let her unlock it, but put a hand on the knob before she could open it.

"What?" She looked up at him and he was lost for a minute in her soft brown eyes.

"I just...I hope you like it." He turned the knob and the let the door open.

Perplexed, Emma pushed the door and stepped inside, then stopped. "Oh..." She looked around and wondered if she'd stepped into the wrong apartment.

There were lights hung around the windows, and candles on the little kitchen table. An assortment of snowmen, Santas and angels were on the table and the windowsills and a tall, smiling Frosty stood by the door. Emma covered her mouth with a shaky hand as Luke nudged her inside and shut the door. She looked to her left and saw a tree.

It wasn't tall, or wide, but it had a star on top and ornaments on the branches. Garland hung, albeit crookedly, from the branches. She loved it.

Christmas carols floated up as Luke stepped over and turned on the CD player he'd brought earlier.

"Luke...you did this? For me?"

"Only if you like it." He took his coat off and draped it on a chair, then coaxed hers off as well. "If you don't like it, I'll blame it on gremlins."

She laughed and it caught in her throat. "I thought it was elves at Christmas."

"Elves, then." He slid his arms around her from behind and pulled her back against him. Her body felt warm and inviting and when he dropped a kiss on her head, he could smell the fresh scent of her shampoo. "Do you like it?"

"I love it." Emma wiped at her eyes. "I love it. How did you do it?"

"I wish I could say magic, but it involved much begging." He chuckled. "I got in when your neighbor was going in, and then I got your super to let me in."

"The super?" Emma stared at him. "George? He doesn't even like to let his own tenants in."

"True." Luke nodded. "However, his wife is a dewy-eyed romantic and I suspect, under his own curmudgeonly exterior, so is George. So he let me in. After his wife threatened to lock him out."

"Oh, my God." Emma walked over and touched the tree, gently, as though she was afraid she'd break it. "I can't believe you did this."

"I did it for you, and for me." Luke stroked her hair. "I thought we'd both had enough of sad Christmases. My place was too messy, so I decorated yours."

She stared at the tree for a moment, then turned to him. "I can't thank you enough. I love it." Emma wrapped her arms around him and was relieved he did the same to her. "I love you." They were quiet for a moment, and then she realized what she'd said.

"Um. I..." She pulled back and combed her hands through her hair, trying to decide what to say. "I can't say I didn't mean that. But I know it may not be what you want to hear, so...if you could just not say anything right now..." She tried to laugh. "Just think of it as a Christmas present for me, okay? I mean, not that this wasn't a great present in itself, but you..."

"Emma, hush. It's fine. It's...fantastic. I love you, too." Now that he'd said it, the rest of his apprehension fled. He rested his forehead against hers and said it again. "I love you."

"Oh, Luke." Emma felt tears well up again. She was afraid to believe this was all happening. She hadn't meant to tell him, at least not yet.

"Hey, don't cry." Luke kissed her, long and slow, hoping to use his lips and touch to soothe her. "This is good, isn't it?" He started to sway with the music. "It's a better present that I ever expected."

Emma found herself trying to laugh and cry at the same time. "I wouldn't let myself think about it, or hope for it. But when I saw everything, what you'd done for me...I couldn't help it."

"I have one other present, and I hope it doesn't change your mind." Luke gave her a quick kiss and went over to the tree.

Emma followed and stumbled; she was surprised to see a mattress on the floor, with pillows and quilts. She'd been so surprised with the decorations that she hadn't noticed. She was about to ask him about it when he turned and held up a brown box with a bow on top.

"Here. I'm a terrible wrapper so I decided to save us both the aggravation."

She took the box and opened it. There was a pile of paper, bound at the left. Her jaw dropped as she read the top page. "Count the Stars, by Luke Thornton." She looked up at him. "It's your novel. You finished it?"

"I did." Luke gave in to a yawn. "Remember when I told you it would flow? Well, it did. Like a river. If it weren't for Sol dragging me out to work, I might have just kept going."

"No wonder you look so tired." She reached up and stroked his cheek; he caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

"It was worth it. At least I think it was." He led her over to the couch and they sat down. "Anyway, we can talk about that more later. The point is that you were my muse, and so I want you to read it first."

"Me?" Emma stared at him, then at the box. "But Luke, I...I never helped you or anything. You asked me that one day and then..."

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I think it's better, really, that I just wrote what was in my head and what I researched. You can tell me what's wrong with it, with the parts about music or anything else. But I just can't send it to anyone else until you read it. It's...I wrote it for you."

"I've never proof read anything except term papers." Emma hugged the box to her. "I can't wait." She leaned over and kissed him. "I have something for you, too."

"Really?" He gave her a sly grin and stole another kiss. "More of those?"

"No." Emma put the box down and went over to the piano, butterflies swarming in her stomach.

Luke bit back whatever he was going to say. Emma looked so nervous and he didn't want to do anything that might stop her.

"I..." She sat down on the bench and lifted the cover. She took a deep breath and forced herself to meet his eyes. "I wrote a song. I wanted to play it for you. It's not much, but..." She cleared her throat. "Well, if you wrote your book for me, then I wrote this for you."

"I can't wait." Luke smiled.

Emma took another breath and willed her hands and voice to be steady as she played. It wasn't much of a song; she had thought it best to start simple. She'd even laughed at herself, thinking that it wasn't as though she was trying to run a marathon. Still, she'd gone for an easy melody and hadn't driven herself crazy with the words either, she just let them flow.

She played a set of scales, settling herself before she started her song.

Luke was quiet, watching her. He'd never seen her with her music before and he was entranced. When she started to sing, he couldn't imagine her doing anything else.

After she finished, Luke waited until she stood before stepping over and dragging her against him. He managed a "Thank you" before capturing her lips with his.

Emma sank into him, into the kiss and felt happier than she had in years. Happier than she could ever remember being. Playing the song for him and his reaction had lifted a weight from her. She had Luke and her music back—what more could she want?

She lost track of time as Luke pulled her back down to the couch, then kissed her and touched her as she did the same to him. His arms were strong and she loved the way his hands felt as they stroked her back, and then her sides.

"This couch is not very comfortable," Luke told her as he trailed kisses along her jaw and neck.

"No, it's not." Emma giggled as Luke shifted, then cursed as a spring poked him in the hip. "Which reminds me. Why is there a mattress on my floor?"

"Ah." Luke brightened and sat up. "That's where we wait for Santa Claus!"

"What?" Emma laughed.

"Hey, I did enough of this as a kid to realize that if you're going to fall asleep while waiting up, you might as well be comfortable. So I brought out the mattress, I have the makings of hot chocolate—including marshmallows and whipped cream—and I thought we could snuggle up and wait for the man."

"Snuggle? And here I thought guys only wanted one thing." Emma stifled a laugh.

"Oh, I want that, too." Luke rocked his hips to prove his point and Emma bit her lip. "Hot chocolate isn't the only thing good with whipped cream."

"Oh. My." Emma blushed, eliciting a deep chuckle from Luke.

"Come on. It's late. Let's get comfortable."

They disentangled and got up from the couch. Emma decided to get a shower and was tempted to ask Luke to join her but decided she wasn't quite that brave. Luke teased her by pretending to invite himself in, but stopped when she covered her face in embarrassment. They both laughed at that.

Luke decided he'd take his own shower after she was done; working with horses, while he enjoyed it, was messy work. If you didn't need a shower afterwards, his brother had often said, you weren't doing it right.

His brother, Luke thought with a sigh. He had to end this standoff with his family, and Keith was probably the way to start. If he went to his mother, no doubt she'd feel disloyal to his father and Luke had no desire to put her in that kind of position. So it was Keith. It's a little early for resolutions, but what the hell.

He heard the water start running and his body reacted as he thought of Emma standing under the spray. He wanted to be in there with her, but this would be better. And, he decided as he turned on the stove to heat the milk for the hot chocolate, the mattress was far less dangerous than the wet tile in the bathroom.

When the milk began to steam, he turned the heat down to low. The water shut off and he closed his eyes, now picturing Emma stepping out of the tub, water running down her arms, her legs...I'm going to kill myself if I keep this up. He shook his head and concentrated on finding the chocolate and marshmallows.

"Hi. Shower's yours if you want it." Emma stood in the hallway and looked up at him with wide brown eyes. She wore a plain white robe over a red nightshirt, and her dark hair hung in damp waves to her shoulders. "What?" She felt self-conscious when he frowned.

"Nothing, it's just..." Luke reached out and toyed with a lock of her hair. To him, she was perfect, but when he made himself look, he saw how old the robe was and how frayed the shirt. He knew money was tight for her—the city wasn't cheap—but he suspected the condition of her clothes reflected what she thought she deserved, and that wasn't much. He'd change that.

"Nothing." He smiled and lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her fingers. "I was just thinking that I'm going to finish that book, sell the movie rights, and then you won't have to do anything but write music. No more waiting tables." He released her hand and ran one of his under the lapel of the robe. "You deserve better."

Emma's heart went into her throat as she realized what he meant, and he was right. Treating herself like this got her nowhere; she would face everything, find her sister and go back to her music. She would do all of that—tomorrow. Tonight was for the two of them.

"I warmed the milk for the hot chocolate. You can put it together whenever." Luke wrapped his arms around her. "And I like lots of whipped cream," he murmured in her ear.

They both laughed and Luke went off for his shower. Emma placed the mugs on a tray, along with some Christmas cookies one of the other waitresses had given her the day before. She was looking forward to...snuggling with him. Some doubts nagged at her and she tried to shake them off. She hadn't been with anyone since Sam, and Sam had never been complimentary about that side of their relationship.

Doesn't matter, she counseled herself as she dropped the marshmallows in the hot chocolate. I'm starting over. It's time to look forward, not back. Luke knows what happened before and he doesn't care, so I won't either.

"I'm ready for that hot chocolate."

She turned and Luke was leaning against the doorjamb. He'd gotten comfortable, as she had. He wore gray sweat pants and a flannel shirt, unbuttoned.

"Good timing." She smiled. "It's ready."

She walked over to the mattress and handed the tray to Luke as she sat down. She took it back as he dimmed the lights and came back to sit on the other side.

"How did you know I like that?" she asked.

"Like what?" Luke took his mug and added more marshmallows.

"Sitting with just the tree lights on." She sighed and slid her feet under the covers. "I used to love to get up early after we had the tree done, before anyone else was up and it was still dark outside and turn on the lights. Sometimes I'd even fall back to sleep but that was one thing I loved. Lila wasn't crazy over it—she liked to sleep late—but she'd come with me sometimes."

"You look like someone who needs lights." Luke leaned back against the pillows he'd piled up. "I could see you writing a song in front of a fireplace, or in a room with candles, or maybe out on the balcony with the moon and the stars shining down..."

She laughed. "How poetic. You are a writer."

"I try."

They were quiet for a while, listening to the music. Then Emma said, "I used to sit at the window a lot, once I got this place. I'd kind of...well, I guess I was feeling sorry for myself. I was lonely, anyway. So I'd sit by the window and look out and not be able to sleep. I'd wonder where Lila was, which didn't help with the sleeping. Then I'd count as many streetlights as I could. You can see fifteen from here, by the way."

He chuckled. "I bet you can." His expression softened and he rubbed her back. "Then what?"

"When I ran out of streetlights, I'd count the windows in the buildings across the street." She moved back, closer to him. "I'd wonder where Lila was and I'd wonder if I'd ever find anyone...for me."

"Will I do?"

Emma smiled and set her chocolate down, then snuggled down next to him. "Better than I could have imagined."

"Good." Luke set his mug down and slid his arms around her. "You know, it's a little early for resolutions, but I've decided that after the holidays, I'm going to call my brother and try to straighten all this family stuff out. It may not work but I'll give it one last shot."

"That's great. I'm going to look for Lila." Emma ran a finger along his arm. "Really look. I'm going to get in touch with my mom and make her understand what's going on, if she doesn't already see it. I've been making a list of people we knew, from home and here. She may not want me to find her, I guess, but I have to look."

"I'm proud of you, Emma." Luke tilted her face up to his. "You went through a lot, alone, and you came through. I'm here, though, so don't think you still need to do things alone."

"You just keep on giving me presents."

"And I'm not done." Luke's smile was warm and wicked and Emma felt a delicious answering tingle in her body. "Come on, let's get under the covers."

Emma slipped her robe off and did as he suggested, glad for all the blankets even though she felt herself getting warmer all the time. She laid her head against Luke's chest and heard his heart, racing like hers was.

Luke bit back a groan of relief as Emma's hands touched him, moving idle circles over his stomach. Did she have any idea how good that felt? Her hands weren't smooth—working as a waitress didn't lend itself to soft, silky skin—but he didn't care. They moved over his abdomen and he was torn between wanting her to stop and wanting her to touch him everywhere else. He had to distract himself for a few minutes, at least, and decided a kiss was a good way to start.