The weather had gone from yucky to scary as I navigated the roads into the mountains and toward the upscale suburb of Brookside, where both my parents still lived. Mom kept the big house in the gated community. Dad had moved into a trendy condo closer to the main part of town with his girlfriend. There were miles separating them, but if you asked my mother, the distance between Denver and the moon wasn't enough s.p.a.ce to get away from my father and his betrayal. I really did feel bad for her, but at some point she needed to start to heal or she was going to lose more than just her marriage and her sanity. Faith was hanging on by a thread, and me ... I loved my mom, but I was over it. Men disappointed, it was just the way it was.

I wasn't exactly thrilled with the choices my dad had made. I didn't understand how he could so easily walk away from my mom and leave his family in the lurch, but blame only went so far. I could hate him forever for falling in love with someone else, throw him out of my life indefinitely because of the decisions he had made that had led to my mom acting like a lunatic, but it was more important to me to keep my family together. I just accepted that he was fallible. Faith and I would never welcome the new girlfriend into the fold with open arms, but I forced myself to tolerate her and worked on interacting with my dad in a nonresentful way every time I saw him. I think a little part of me expected nothing less from him just because he was a man and I had this belief that all men would ultimately gravitate toward the shiny, prettier, and his case younger option when it came to thinking with what was in their pants.

I had to go slowly and concentrate, which was harder than usual because I was so emotionally drained. I couldn't get the girl, the horrible loss from yesterday, out of my mind. I also couldn't stop the endless replay of the way I had thrown myself at Nash from rolling over my eyes every time they drifted shut last night, which led to a sleepless night. Twice now we had shared a kiss in the midst of an emotional upheaval, both times it had made the situation more tolerable, more a shadow than a suffocating fog of bad feelings and hurt. I didn't want to name what that meant, but I couldn't deny that kissing him made me feel restored and set me back on solid ground. The fact he didn't push me away, didn't grill me endlessly about it, forced me to question all the memories I had that reminded me over and over again that I was supposed to think Nash was a heartless jerk.

I'd been seconds away from accepting his invitation to the wedding, even though the idea of spending time around him, around his friends and a bunch of strangers, made me want to hyperventilate. Thank G.o.d he had told me to think about it. There was some kind of current dragging and pulling between us that I didn't trust, didn't particularly like, but it was strong, and fighting its momentum was wearing me out, wearing me down. I actually wanted to spend time with him.

When he told me about his mom, how he used the words I know how it feels, Saint ... it altered my entire perception of who I thought he was and who he really might be. Hearing that you were fat and ugly, that no one liked you, and that you would never have friends or get a boyfriend sucked coming from kids your own age, but kids could be mean and hopefully they would grow out of it. Being made to feel worthless and unwanted by a parent ... that had to be devastating and nearly impossible to get over. I couldn't even get my head around it. I didn't want to examine too closely why that made a pang near my heart start to throb in pain or why the idea of him being against marriage and forever with one person made me a little queasy.

By the time I pulled into the driveway of my mom's house, the trip had taken an hour longer than it should have and a full-on snowstorm was working through the mountains. I jogged up to the front door and rang the bell. I did a double take when my mom pulled open the door. It was one in the afternoon, she still had her pajamas on, and she was holding a half-empty winegla.s.s in her hand. As she swayed slightly and glared at me, I didn't believe for one second it was her first gla.s.s of the day, and that made my stomach drop.

"What are you doing here, Saint?"

There was no welcome in her tone, so I maneuvered past her and walked into the house. Before the split, she would have pulled me into her arms and hugged the life out of me whether I needed it or not. She would have asked me about work and my dating life. Now she looked irritated that I had crashed her pity party.

"Faith called me. She told me about the fire and I thought I should come and check on you. We're worried about you, Mom." I fought the urge to reach for her drink so I could dump it out.

She scoffed at me and slammed the door shut. I winced when some of the wine in her gla.s.s sloshed over her hand.

"You should be worrying about yourself, Saint."

We might not have the kind of mother-daughter relationship where we were the best of friends, but my mom had never purposely lashed out at me in anger before. I reached out and s.n.a.t.c.hed the winegla.s.s out of her hand and stomped to the kitchen. Stung and annoyed by both her tone and her att.i.tude.

"You shouldn't be drinking anything alcoholic while you're on so many different medications. This is ridiculous, Mom. You want to push me away by being purposefully nasty and by trying to force Faith to choose between you and Dad. You're making this situation harder on everybody. The stunt with the fire ..." I shook my head at her. "Is that a desperate cry for attention? Who did you think was going to swoop in and save you if you got arrested for arson? Dad? Well, I hate to break the news to you, but he's moved on and so should you. Faith and I love you, Mom. That should be enough."

She ground her teeth together and glared at me. Her eyes were gla.s.sy and she was even more unsteady on her feet than I thought. It sucked to see her this way, but it strengthened the idea that opening yourself up to someone else just to have them hurt you in the end was such an awful idea.

"What do you know about anything, Saint? You've never had love ripped away from you, never even had a man of your own. I feel empty inside."

I sucked in a breath through my teeth and tried to remember that this was the wine and pills talking, but she was pushing the limits of what I was going to tolerate. I was going to tell her in no uncertain terms to knock it the h.e.l.l off when she suddenly burst into tears and teetered over to the ma.s.sive island in the center of the kitchen. She curled her hands around a stack of papers I didn't notice before and waved them around in the air between us. I saw a sheen of glossy tears coat her wild eyes.

"I got the final divorce papers in the mail last weekend, and on top of that, your sister let the kids spend the weekend with him and that ... that woman. How could she do that to me? She knows how I feel about his new girlfriend being my family. I just lost it. I literally went a little crazy."

She was breathing really hard and looked so jagged and frayed around the edges that I had to walk over and wrap my arm around her too-thin shoulders. I felt an additional pang of alarm. She was shaking really hard and I felt like I could actually touch her sadness. This is what loving someone unconditionally ended you up with. I never wanted to be here.

"That had to be really hard, Mom. And I understand that you're hurting, but almost burning down the house isn't going to change any of it. There has to be a healthier way for you to deal with what you're feeling because I don't think claiming temporary insanity is going to keep you out of the hot seat for very long."

She peeked out between her fingers at me and I winced at the makeup smeared across her normally pretty face. She looked like a drunken and demented clown. I wanted my mom back, wanted my family to be like it was. Unfortunately, that was no longer an option.

"What should I do, Saint? Pretend like your father doesn't exist even though he lives in the same town and is flaunting his new, younger, prettier girlfriend in my face every chance he gets? You tell me, Ms. Smarty Pants, what should I do that's healthier than what I'm doing now?"

I let her shoulder go and moved back around to the other side of the island. Mostly I needed a little s.p.a.ce to avoid wringing her neck. I hated that it was so easy for her to be mean now.

"I don't really know the answer to that, Mom. Maybe you just need some s.p.a.ce away from it, away from them."

She snorted and tossed her head back to wipe her cheeks off with the back of her hand. All she succeeded in doing was making a bigger mess. She looked absurd and miserable.

"You ran away when it happened to you, Saint. You didn't come back for holidays or to visit, not for anything. All because you wanted to get away from a boy and hurt feelings. When college was done you took the first job you could find out there when all your family was here. Even when Faith started having all those babies, it wasn't enough to bring you home. Try and tell me all about the healthy ways of dealing with things, Saint, go right ahead."

I blew out a breath and curled my hands into fists on the marble top of the island. That was a low blow. She was on a roll and there was no getting through to her, and if I kept trying to reason with her while she was in this state, there was going to be irreversible damage done to our relationship, and as irritated as I was at her childish behavior, I didn't want that to happen. Part of the reason I was back in Colorado was to work on things with my mom, not to drive us further apart.

"Mom, the holidays are right around the corner. Try and pull it together or no one is going to want to spend time together as a family. I know this has been hard for you, that Dad disappointed you and broke your heart, but life goes on. It's going on two years, something has to give." I was used to my family being a safe zone not a war zone, and the change was horrible.

She groaned and gave me a hard look through her watery eyes. For the last couple of years we had done Christmas Eve with Dad and Christmas Day with her. It seemed to work all right, even if no one was comfortable with Dad's new girlfriend and Mom spent the entire next day lambasting us for spending time with them. I wasn't looking forward to a repeat and I doubted Faith was either. A nice family get-together just wasn't in the cards, though.

"Try and remember that it should be about family and the kids this year. Look, the roads are bad. I wanted to see you and check in. I'm worried about you for real, Mom, that fire should have been a wake-up call. You need to really evaluate what you are doing to yourself and what that is doing to the rest of the family. I really don't want to have to bail you out of jail, or something even worse."

I gave her one last hug and headed back toward the front door. All I could hope for was that maybe somehow my words had penetrated, that the fact that Faith and I still loved her like crazy would make up for the fact my dad no longer did. Maybe instead of just telling her to get some s.p.a.ce, I should try and make it happen. I had plenty of vacation time saved up: maybe I should try and drag her to the Hot Springs for a long weekend or something. I just felt like she needed some kind of clarity to get back to where she was before my dad had devastated her. I got back in the Jetta, which by now had a pretty thick layer of snow coating it, and started the motor to let it warm up. While I was waiting I found a Pixies song I liked on my iPod and called my sister.

It took a few rings for her to answer, and when she did she sounded harried and out of breath.

"How was she?"

I was rubbing my hands together to keep them warm and just grunted a response.

"That bad?"

I sighed heavily and turned on the windshield wipers to clear away the fluffy white blanket covering the windshield.

"She's a mess of pills and wine. She's being mean and hateful. I don't know anything because I'm a coward and left after high school and didn't come home right after college." With Faith, I let the sarcasm get as thick as the snow. "She's lost her mind, but the final divorce papers came, so it's officially over. That's what inspired the bonfire. Honestly, I'm kind of worried about her, but I'm not sure what to do about it."

"s.h.i.t."

"Pretty much. Christmas should be fun this year."

There was a really long silence on the other end of the phone that made me frown.

"What's up, Faith?"

She muttered something again and let out a deep sigh. "I'm tired, Saint. I'm pregnant, I have a bunch of little kids that deserve an awesome Christmas for once, and a long-suffering husband that has finally reached his limit of my family drama. Justin and I are taking the kids to Aspen for Christmas. Mom and Dad are just going to have to deal with it. You're welcome to escape with us if you want, but we just rented a tiny cabin and you'll have to take a sleeping bag and bunk on the floor with Owen."

I curled my hands around the steering wheel and tried to settle myself. I couldn't say the news surprised me, but still it nipped at me. Faith was the one person I always relied on, who was always there for me even when I lived half a country away. She deserved a peaceful family holiday away from all the nonsense, but that meant I would be alone ... because there was no way in h.e.l.l I was tackling my parents and all their resentment and insanity on my own. No way.

"No, I'll be fine. You guys go and have fun. I'll drop the kids' presents off sometime this weekend so you can take them with you."

"Are you sure? You sound b.u.mmed out. You know we would love to have you."

I rubbed my fingers across my forehead and gave a sharp laugh that had no humor in it.

"I guess it just proves it's past time I get a life."

"Oh, Saint ... come on."

"Seriously, Faith. I'm twenty-five, you're my only friend, the rest of my family is bonkers, and G.o.d forbid a guy talks to me, or even worse shows some kind of genuine interest in me. I turn into a mute. I need to get my s.h.i.t together just as much as Mom does."

"Stop it. You're being too hard on yourself."

"Maybe. Hey, I'll see you this weekend, okay?"

"Are you sure you're all right?"

I wasn't, but that wasn't her problem. Suddenly the idea of being alone on Christmas, the thought of sitting in my apartment sad and depressed, overran my usual hesitancy and sense of self-preservation. I was headed back to Denver with a plan, and I wasn't going to back out of it. Now I just needed to get back to the city in one piece because the driving conditions were terrible and the things running around my head had my concentration all over the place when it should be firmly on the road.

Traffic was moving at a snail's pace even with the snowplows out, and it seemed like there was an accident or car out of control every half mile. It took me almost three and a half hours to get back to the city and then another half an hour to get to the hospital because rush-hour traffic was at a standstill. When I finally reached the giant building on the cusp of downtown, I parked and ran inside. I felt kind of breathless, a little out of control, and I had to say it was exhilarating.

I hoped no one would notice that I was there on my day off, or notice that I was operating on a heady mix of panic and adrenaline. Of course I wasn't that lucky. Sunny was walking right across the entrance to the ER and stopped short when she saw me.

"Aren't you off today?"

I shrugged and shifted uneasily. I was a woman on a mission and didn't have time to stop and chitchat. I was worried that if I waited, all my nervous energy would fade and I would rationalize my way out of doing what I was about to do.

"Yeah."

"What are you doing here? Didn't I just tell you that you needed to get a life outside of this place? You're going to run yourself into the ground, Saint. I know you had a difficult time with that case yesterday, but you have to leave that here and not take it home with you."

I gave her a wan smile and tucked some of my long hair back behind my ears. When it was loose it curled and twisted all over the place and tended to be uncontrollable, so I just let it do whatever.

"I'm actually here looking for someone."

She lifted a black eyebrow at me and shifted the paperwork she had in her hands.

"Dr. Bennet? He was talking about you again this week."

I was opening my mouth to tell her no when the person I was actually looking for came strolling through the door. He had that black wool hat on and dark pea coat over his always-present hoodie. His eyes flickered over me and he gave me a grin. There was just something about him that was so magnetic. He always seemed to be the only thing I could focus on when we were in the same room, and it wasn't just because he was so big and interesting to look at ... it was something polarizing that came from deep inside of him.

"Hey."

Sunny made a noise in her throat and looked between me and Nash with big eyes.

I didn't give him a greeting back, didn't introduce the two of them, I just blurted out, "Yes, I'll go with you!" In a rush like the words couldn't get off my tongue fast enough.

I sounded like an idiot and I could feel a scalding blush burn up my neck and flood into my face. He lifted his dark eyebrows up but didn't say anything, or ask any questions that would have made me feel more awkward. He just dug his wallet out of his back pocket and handed me a business card. It was covered with bright ink and looked like the graffiti that covered the sides of trains and buildings in town. It was far more interesting and visually captivating than any other business card I had ever seen. It had his name on the front and the name of a tattoo shop. Of course he was a tattoo artist. What other job could he have that let him have yellow and orange flames inked on his scalp? It fit.

"The shop number is the one on the top. My cell is the bottom. Just hit me up and we'll figure it out as we go. They're getting married at the clock tower downtown on Arapahoe. I'm glad, Saint, really glad you decided to go with me."

He didn't draw it out, didn't make me scramble for an explanation or ask why I sounded like a crazy person with the way I accepted. He just gave me a little wink and continued on his way to the elevator. I watched him walk away and curled my hand around the card like it was a lifeline.

Sunny gave me a wide-eyed look and c.o.c.ked her head to the side.

"So you have a handsome, successful doctor interested in taking you out and you are actively avoiding accepting his invitations out, but a guy that looks like a miscreant comes strolling in and you practically jump out of your skin in your eagerness to go out with him. Wanna explain that to me, Saint?"

I couldn't explain it to her. The desire to not be alone on Christmas outweighed any reservations I had about spending time with Nash. Plus she was my boss; I didn't think it was appropriate to tell her that kissing Nash made my brain turn to mush and being close to him melted the typically frozen barriers I had in place when it came to interacting with the opposite s.e.x.

"He's a tattoo artist not a miscreant. We went to high school together. Plus he doesn't make me nervous and anxious the way Dr. Bennet does." Oh no, Nash made me nervous and anxious in an entirely different way that had all my bits and pieces reminding me I was a girl and he was a boy.

She clicked her tongue at me. "I think it has more to do with the type of guy you think you can get. It ties back into that whole you not being Bennet's type. Well, you are his type and so much more than you give yourself credit for. You don't have to settle for a guy with a ring through his nose."

I wanted to argue that I liked the ring in his nose, it made his too-pretty face more masculine, but she kept going.

"Promise me, Saint. Promise that if Dr. Bennet asks you out, you'll accept and stop doubting yourself. Please, as your friend, I need you to agree to do it."

I didn't have the heart or the correct words to try and explain to her that Nash was a far larger obstacle to me getting to a place of confidence and self-worth than any gorgeous and successful doctor could ever be. But because I admired her, wanted to keep her favor, I numbly nodded.

"Fine, Sunny, I promise."

She squealed a little and gave me a one-armed hug.

"Great. The other guy looks like all kinds of trouble."

I shook my head and shoved the card Nash had handed me in the front pocket of my jeans. Now I only had the weekend and the first part of next week to not talk myself out of going with him.

"You have no idea."

He did look like trouble, but he also looked interesting and beautiful and I still wanted to know what the rest of that tattoo that covered so much of him looked like. I was telling her good-bye, wishing her luck with the rest of the shift because the roads were awful and cars were all over the place, when Dr. Bennet came around the corner. I saw Sunny's eyes light up and I wanted to kick myself for not leaving five seconds earlier. He walked over to us, all handsome and confident, and I felt a rock of dread settle in my stomach. If he asked me out right in front of Sunny, there was no way I was going to wiggle my way out of it. I had promised.

He really was good-looking. He could easily play the role of handsome physician on any prime-time TV show. I think the thing that took away from his appeal was that he totally knew he was good-looking and acted like that ent.i.tled him to things, and to people.

"Well, h.e.l.lo, ladies. Sunny, I need you in room 313B. Saint, are you just leaving?"

I opened my mouth and then closed it. I just blinked at him like an owl for a full minute before Sunny interjected, "It's her day off. I keep telling her that she needs a break from this place. Don't you agree?"

He chuckled and it was deep and pleasing, but it made me wince. What was wrong with me? I cleared my throat.

"I had a few errands to run and this was my last stop. It's nice to see you, Dr. Bennet."

Awesome. That sounded pretty normal and socially acceptable. He laughed again and flashed superstraight, superwhite teeth at me. Everything about him was just blindingly perfect, so why wasn't my heart tripping over itself the way it did when Nash's odd-colored eyes landed on me?

"Andrew, call me Andrew. I would be happy to keep you occupied on your next day off, Saint. When might that be?"

I wanted to groan and go find a gurney or a counter to crawl under. Sunny didn't let me waffle an excuse that I was always working, and it wasn't fair that she was the one that did my schedule so she could tell him with confidence: "She's off on New Year's Eve since she's working Christmas Day. Right, Saint?"

I knew she was just trying to help, but I was going to strangle her.

"I am, but if you already have something planned, I'm sure we can work out something later on."

I balked when he reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. I almost flinched but just barely contained the reaction. I really didn't want this guy to put his hands on me. What was wrong with me?

"I would love to take you out on New Year's Eve. Some friends of my friends are having a party, and I would love it if you would be my date."

I was going to have an embolism. I barely had enough confidence that I was going to survive an evening with Nash and his friends, going to some sw.a.n.ky party on the arm of a doctor ... I was going to have a nervous breakdown. I wanted to say no, wanted to tell him I wasn't interested, but Sunny was watching me with undisguised glee. I shoved my fingers through my hair and reluctantly nodded.

"Sure, Doctor ... I mean Andrew. That sounds lovely." Only if lovely meant torturous and nightmarish.

His smile grew and he leaned over and gave me a buss on the cheek. This time I couldn't help but cringe away. If he noticed, he didn't say anything. He just handed me his card, much like Nash did, and told me to give him a call. When he walked away I had no desire to stare after him and there was an unpleasant taste in my mouth. I let out an oof when Sunny's small frame slammed into mine as she gave me another one-armed hug.