Read Online The Nine Lives of Christmas by Sheila Roberts - Free Book Online Page A

finished with the tree and she slipped her arms around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. Had she put on more perfume? Maybe that scented candle was getting to him. Maybe he was allergic to cinnamon. His throat started to close and he coughed.
    She looked up at him in concern. “Are you getting sick?”
    “No, just a tickle in the throat. I must be allergic to decorating,” he cracked. “Or cinnamon.” Or … something.
    “It’s probably cat dander. Good thing he’ll be relocated by Christmas,” said Blair. She blew out the candle, then caught Zach by the hand and led him to the couch. “There. Now let’s take a break.”
    And what a break it was. Blair decided to spend the night.
    So, once more, all was calm, all was bright … until he drifted off to sleep and found himself in bed, tied down with more chains than Marley’s ghost. A figure stood at his bedside: Merilee from Pet Palace, and she was holding Tom and looking at Zach with disappointment. “That woman … I thought you had better taste.”
    “She’s not so bad,” Zach protested.
    “You can say that, after the way she acted today? She showed her true colors and there you are, pretending to be colorblind. Shame on you,” Dream Merilee scolded. “Choosing that woman over this poor helpless kitty. I thought you were more noble.”
    “I am noble,” he protested. “I took the little guy in.”
    “And then threw him away just so you could get laid.”
    “I haven’t thrown him away,” Zach protested. “He’s still here somewhere. Anyway, I never said I’d keep the cat.”
    “You don’t keep anything or anyone, do you?” taunted this new and unimproved Merilee.
    “Hey, I wasn’t the one who gave back the ring on Christmas Eve,” he protested. “And she dumped me for my best friend!”
    “Nice try,” sneered Merilee. “Blame your problems on your ex-girlfriend. But it won’t work. She knew you were getting cold feet. Cold feet to match that cold heart.”
    Zach was about to protest that he didn’t have a cold heart when, out of nowhere, a dump truck backed up to his bed and started unloading a ton of iron chains on top of him. The weight was crushing him, suffocating him. “Help! Somebody help me!”
    He woke up with a strangled cry to find the room awash in predawn shadows. Blair had thrown an arm across his chest. He gently removed it and she gave a snort and rolled over onto her side. He stayed on his back, staring at the ceiling and willing his heartbeat to settle.
    It was just a dumb dream, he said to himself and forced his eyes shut.
    He never got back to sleep though. Instead, he lay there and dredged up memories of the good times he’d had with Blair over the last few months. She’d been the perfect woman, a few years older than him, happily single, and just out to enjoy life. They’d had some fun times: played a lot of tennis before the weather turned, spent some rainy autumn afternoons enjoying matinees at the Falls Cinema. But right along with those pleasant memories came less pleasant ones: her temper tantrum in Pet Palace, how she’d pouted when he took her to Angelina’s on her birthday and then later admitted that she’d been hoping he’d surprise her with a weekend jaunt to San Diego instead. When she’d told him she was craving Mexican from her favorite restaurant in San Diego she’d been giving him a hint—which he hadn’t quite gotten.
    Now he thought of her hints while they had been putting up the tree. What, exactly, did she want from Tiffany’s? He started to sweat. While he’d spent the last three months thinking they were inner tubing down the river of life, having a good old time, she’d had them in a speedboat headed for the falls. Did he want to go over the falls with a woman he couldn’t afford? Did he want to go over the falls at all? Nooooo.
    He squeezed his eyes shut tighter but it didn’t help. Next to him, Blair murmured something in her sleep and gave a little giggle.