"Some heavy snow is moving into the city tonight so if you've got anywhere to go, you better do it early while the roads are still clear. In other news..."

Justin Timberlake rolled his eyes at the weatherman as he tipped his beer bottle to his lips, and then clicked the TV off.

"Snow?" He mumbled to himself, craning his neck around to look out the large wall of windows in his new apartment in the city. "Doesn't look like snow to me."

Not that it mattered much to him if it snowed or not. He didn't have any plans to go anywhere today. Or tomorrow for that matter. It was Christmas Eve and he didn't have anywhere to go.

He takes a moment to think back over Christmases past, the tiniest tug on his heartstrings as he remembers Christmases spent around the huge tree in his parents' house, lit up with a million lights-and nights spent snowmobiling or sledding through the woods in his sleepy little hometown. Then let himself wallow in his self made misery of spending another holiday by himself, wondering how he'd let everything get so screwed up between he and his family. Christmas used to be his favorite holiday, but nowadays it was more of a hassle than anything. Putting up decorations, attending holiday party after holiday party, and drinking eggnog ‘til he was sick, all the while merely going through the motions and pretending he was in the "spirit" of things.

He was beginning to be a Scrooge, he thought with a light chuckle, emptying the remains of his beer into his mouth. His stomach rumbled and he suddenly remembered the leftovers in the fridge from a party he'd attended the day before. Grape jelly meatballs and bacon wrapped scallops, homemade sugar cookies and...ugh...eggnog. That he would definitely be emptying into the sink.

Padding over to the kitchen, he dropped his beer bottle into the trash can on the way by, before grabbing the containers of food from the fridge. He piled it all on a plate and shoved it in the microwave, not bothering to think that the scallops would probably be better reheated in the oven. The timer dinged on the microwave just as his phone was ringing shrilly from the armrest of the couch.

"Who could be...?" He wonders, leaving his food behind to go and snatch up his phone. His eyes narrow in on the screen when he sees it's his mother calling. Without a second thought, he tosses it back down onto the plush sofa. She would call him today, he thinks bitterly, allowing the idea that she was calling to rub it in that his grannie had most likely made his favorite foods to creep into his brain.

But she's not that spiteful, he counters, his eyes trained on the phone on the couch cushion, a war waging within him of whether or not he should just put away the bitterness and regret for the day. His stomach rumbles again and he thinks he'd better eat something and think it over.

The food is wolfed down in minutes, a show of how rattled his mother calling him had made him.

His phone vibrates next to his thigh and he reaches for it, only partially relieved when it's a text message from a co-worker saying ‘Merry Christmas Eve.' That feeling of being almost disappointed that it wasn't his mom trying to call again made him think that calling back was the right idea.

Steeling his nerves, he hit the send button twice, making sure it was calling back the correct person, before he put the phone to his ear. He ran a shaky hand over his face and fought the urge to laugh. How silly was he being right now? Talking to his mother never made him nervous like this before. Then again, their relationship had never been this way before, either.

She picked up on the second ring and he had the fleeting thought to hang up. A lot of good it would've done considering his name had probably registered on the caller ID.

"Justin?" she asks, and he struggles to hear her through the phone. "Is that you?"

He waits a beat, swallowing over the lump in his throat, and then "hey, momma." He has to pull the phone away from his ear at her near-sob as she chokes out a ‘hello.'

"I'm so glad you called!" she says excitedly though he can hear the tears in her voice. "Its-it's Christmas. I-well-you called first. I was just...you know...calling you back."

"Whatever the case...I'm glad."

There's a long stretch of silence and the awkwardness of it has Justin wiggling in his seat and uncomfortable. A growl comes from the pit of his stomach and he wonders just how much food he's going to have to put down there to make it shut up. Apparently it knows what day it is and therefore knows exactly what kind of food it's going to miss out on. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, wishing he'd smell his Grannie's cobbler instead of the smell that heating his leftovers had made.

"Do you have any plans today?" She suddenly asks, shaking him out of his thoughts. He'd almost forgotten he was even on the phone. "Nah." He replies with a shrug. "I'll probably watch The Christmas Story until I can say all the lines along with them..."

"You can already do that." She interjects and laughter bubbles up in his throat before he can even stop it because he knows she's right. If there's one movie he knows every single line to, it's that one. His laughter opens up some kind of dam because it has her laughing too and he feels at least one of the weights lifted from his shoulders. "Granny says it won't be the same; making cobbler without you around to try and steal it all." He knows it's her attempt at making things less awkward-that she's trying to make him laugh more. It makes his heart ache and he wants so badly to just put everything aside that's happened but he's so afraid that things have changed too much.

He swallows thickly, "I know."

"Justin-come home. Please?" Her voice catches on the last word and he feels his heart break just a little bit more. "Mom--" He begins, only to be interrupted. "I don't want you alone." The ache in his chest that had begun when he'd seen her name on the caller ID intensified. "I don't care if we don't speak when you're here, just-be here."

He worries his lip between his teeth, contemplating. Could it really be that easy? To just come home and everything would be fixed? He knows it's worth a shot and with work about to get insanely busy again after the New Year, he isn't sure when he'll have another chance. "It'll be late when I get there." He finally says, and with her sigh he can see, even over the phone, that she's relaxed. "I'll be up." She replies softly. The warmth in her voice tugs at his heartstrings and he's suddenly glad that he's decided to pay his family a visit-even if it is just for a day or two. He moves from his spot on the couch to his bedroom, rummaging around in his walk-in closet for his duffel bag, throwing a few pairs of jeans over his arm as he walks past them. She's saying something but the only thing he can think about is how glad he is to be going home. Glad to get away from this city for a while and glad that he'd called her back. Hope fills his chest that maybe, just maybe, this trip home will help bridge the gap he'd put between them.

Clothes are being shoved into the bag quickly and he thinks he's almost packed-in record time for him-except for his toiletries. His brow furrows as he tries to recall whether or not he'd left anything there the last time he'd been home; wanting to cry when he realizes that it's been almost two years since he'd been back.

"You got my package?" She asks, and he nods even though she can't see him. "Mhmm."

He gazes at the brown paper package sitting under his small Christmas tree, recognizing it now for what it really is-a peace offering-rather than what he'd originally thought. When the box had shown up on his doorstep, his mother's familiar scrawling across the top, he'd labeled it as some kind of guilt trip, stuck it under the tree and forgotten all about it. He cut his eyes to the phone next to his ear, listening to her tell him to be careful, and decided he'd bring the package along and open it there. His eyes landed on the clock beside his bed and almost bugged out of his head. He needed to get a move on or he'd never make it there before morning. Not with the supposed "blizzard" rolling in.

"Hey-mom..." he interrupted, "-I need to let you go. I've gotta finish packing and get out of here. But I'll see you tonight. Promise." He rolled another sweater and stuffed it in the side pocket of his duffel bag, chuckling when he realized how over-packed he was for a few nights stay at his parents place.

"Ok, baby. I'll see you around 10 then."

"Mom..." He calls out softly.

"Yes, dear?"

"Love you. And...tell dad that for me too."

He's smiling when they get off the phone.

He's going home for Christmas. And they're talking again. And while one phone call and one trip home won't fix everything immediately, it's a step in the right direction.

*

Justin scrambled down the aisles of the local department store, the last one he'd see before he hit the highway. Grumbling to himself, he sidestepped another stroller from running over his toe, and wondered what on earth had possessed him to set foot inside a shopping center on Christmas Eve. His parents didn't need a present-him showing up would be enough. Especially after all they'd been through since their relationship had fallen apart, slowly, at the seams. They didn't like his job or the girl he'd been preparing to marry; hated how demanding work was and the strain it put on him and they couldn't understand why he'd chosen to go into law school when the only thing he'd ever wanted to do since he was little was be a writer.

A stroller wheel grazed the back of his ankle and he yelped in surprise before turning to yell at the person to watch where they were going. They'd already disappeared down another aisle and he shook his head, unable to comprehend how someone could do that and not apologize. Finding the perfect gift, especially on Christmas Eve, was next to impossible and he was about to give up and just show up empty handed when he stumbled into the cards section. Almost everything had been picked over and he had to push his way through a few people to even really see what was left but he was pretty sure the one he had his eye on was perfect. Ralphie from The Christmas Story was on the front and when you opened the card it said, quite loudly, "you'll shoot your eye out!" Justin chuckled to himself, remembering times of when he'd been asking for presents and his parents would respond with that same statement, no matter what he was asking for. Yep, this card was perfect.

The wait to check-out was fairly painless and he grabbed an energy drink for the road, paying for his items before stepping outside into the...Jesus, when had it gotten so cold? He wondered, wrapping his peacoat tighter around his slim waist. He ducked his head as the wind whipped around him and he sent up a silent prayer that what he was feeling wasn't the beginning of what the weatherman had predicted earlier. ‘Cause if it was, he was in big trouble and needed to get the hell out of dodge ASAP.

He climbed into his Lexus, shivering as the cold leather soaked through the fabric of his jeans and he turned the heat on high when the car started. He pulled onto the highway, cranking an old mix CD and started home, a warm, fuzzy feeling filling the pit of his stomach at the thought. He was going home.

*

Justin can tell the roads are getting icier by the second and the snow is piling up higher and higher on the roads but he swears that if he can just get out of the small town he's driving through and into Memphis, that he'll be fine. Because in Memphis there will be snowplows.

A smile spreads across his lips as one of his favorite Christmas songs from his childhood comes on the radio, reaching to turn the volume up. It had been a long time since he'd felt this kind of joy over hearing Christmas music and the grin on his face was cheek-splitting.

"Christmas, Christmas time is nearrrrrr."

Justin tapped his hands on his steering wheel with the beat to the Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas song, barely acknowledging that the snow that had been lightly falling since he'd left his apartment in the city was quickly becoming a white-out. But he wasn't worried. His little two-door Lexus had the snow tires on and he'd driven through worse conditions than what he was now.

The weatherman on the radio had said that they could get anywhere from 5-10 inches over night and that if you could avoid going anywhere, it would be wise to just stay in and wait it out.

"Me...I want a hoooooola-hoop!"

He glanced down at the dash at the time and groaned when it was later than he had anticipated.

"Mom's gonna kill me." He said aloud to himself, checking his gas situation as he passed the last gas station he knew he'd hit for miles. Passing it by, he decided he'd be ok until he reached his parents' house.  He grabbed his phone from the passenger seat and hit send, hoping he'd catch one of his parents before they went to church. He frowned when it went straight to voicemail.

"Hey mom, dad...The snow is a little bit...well, shit...it's coming down pretty hard but I'm almost to Memphis. Just wanted to let you know I'll be a little later than what I'd initially said. If anything changes, I'll call." He almost hung up the phone but then added on, "love you," before he hit the ‘end' button.

The road was almost pitch black in front of him so he popped his brights on, knowing that no one would be driving in this if they didn't need to. And I'm the idiot who apparently needs to, he grumbled to himself, turning the radio up higher as Al Greens "Feels Like Christmas" comes on the radio. He's dancing in his seat, concentrating entirely too much on the song and not enough on the road and the fact that something is wrong with his car. Over the music, he can hear the car's engine stutter a bit, and he passes it off as it reacting to the cold and the wet. But it does it again and this time he can feel it in the steering wheel. He switches the radio off and leans in closer to the windshield, as if doing so will make him hear whatever it is better.

The car makes a few popping noises and then slowly comes to a dead stop.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." Justin growls out, turning the key in the ignition, and winces when it doesn't even click to start. "Shit. Of all the fucking..." He slides the gearshift into ‘P' and sits back, chewing the inside of his cheek as he tries to figure out what to do. He's in the middle of...dammit, where was he now? Nowheresville, Tennessee...and his car just died on him. He's not sure if this is God's way of telling him that going home was a bad idea, but if it is...it was the worst way to get the point across. The hood pops when he pulls the knob and he dreads getting out in the cold, especially when he can't get his car to even turn on so he can make use of the heat. He tucks the keys inside his jacket pocket, not even allowing for the possibility of him locking them inside the car, before he lifts the hood up. He stares at the cars insides, completely clueless as to what to even look for. There's no smoke, and it's too dark out to tell if anything is leaking underneath, and he finds himself wishing that he'd paid more attention in Auto Class in high school instead of trying to get the head cheerleader, Beth Ann's, attention.

The only thing that comes to mind that he can do is call for a tow truck and hope there's one close enough that's willing to come out in this mess and save him. And even then, that won't get him to where he's headed. Maybe he should've just waited until morning to head to his parents, he thinks, pulling his hood over his face more when the wind blows bitter cold against his cheeks. It's getting brutal out there.

Admitting defeat, he climbs back into his car, still warm-well, warmer than outside-and he dials 411. There's nothing but silence on the other end and he pulls his phone back from his ear and the screen is blinking back the words "no service", mocking him and his misfortune. "This is what I get," he pouts, "for all the shit I've done lately. I must be on someone's bad list this year." He attempts to dial out again, met with the same conclusion. No service. The little metal object is chucked from his hand against the passenger side and it bounces before landing on the floor. Justin leans his head against the steering wheel, trying to come up with some kind of plan to get him out of this mess, because staying put until a car comes along is not an option. He glances into the backseat and sees his duffel bag and he can't believe that this is what it's come down to. A zipper is undone and he reaches inside the bag and plucks out a heavy turtleneck and his long john shirt. He's out of his peacoat and long sleeved polo in a flash, tugging on the long john shirt quickly, the polo and the turtleneck following soon after. Three shirts, a jacket, a scarf, a hat and a pair of gloves later, he thinks he's ready to brave the cold and wet and venture to the nearest house.  He knows there's one on this road...driven it enough times to know that the area is populated by at least a few people. Once outside he burrows further into his scarf, and hikes his bag up higher on his shoulder and now he's sure that he over packed.

"Please, God, let there be a house close." He breathes out, the air in his lungs coming out in a white puff as the warmth mixes with the cold air. There are only two directions he can go, and he chooses the way that the car is pointed in because he remembered that he'd passed a house at least a mile back so the next one shouldn't be too far up the road. Right?

Squinting his eyes against the snow as it falls on his face and eyelashes, he ventures forward, hoping against all hope that he finds someone.

*

25 year old Mia Belle is curled up on her big comfy couch, a book in hand, and a cup of hot chocolate sitting close by, completely content that this is how she's going to spend the next few days of her Christmas vacation. It's how she'd been spending them almost her entire life so she was used to it. Growing up, her parents had never really cared much for spending the holiday's together the traditional way and were always so involved in their own social lives to bother with hers. When they'd go off to yet another party and leave her by herself, she had to find other ways to get in the spirit and make the best of her time. She'd gotten pretty good at making paper snowflakes and homemade ornaments and Christmas cookies.  Things that came in especially handy when she'd decided to become a teacher.

And in doing so, Christmas had become her favorite holiday and she had become accustomed to spending Christmas Eve and Christmas day, alone. She'd developed a routine: Christmas Eve church service where she sat with a few of her co-workers then she'd head home, eat dinner and curl up on the couch to watch A Christmas Story on TV as it played back-to-back on one of the channels. Christmas Day was more of the same--laze around, go see a movie, and unwrap the small amount of packages that she'd received from friends and her crazy aunt who she hadn't seen since she was in middle school and still thought she was a teenager. To most people, she knew it sounded depressing, but it was all she'd ever really known and didn't know what a normal Christmas felt like.

She eyed the package sitting under the sparkling tree in the corner of her living room and pondered what she'd gotten this year. While the presents her aunt gave her were utterly useless, it still warmed her heart a bit to know that at least someone in the messed up family she'd grown up in still cared.

Her hot chocolate was almost gone and she frowned at the empty mug, hoping there was at least one more packet of cocoa left in her pantry. At times she was absentminded and couldn't remember if she'd picked up a new box the last time she'd gone grocery shopping. A smile spread across her face when she found a brand new box behind the old one.

A Christmas Story was just ending as she made another mug full and she had to laugh when she found her bulldog, Tootie, curled up on the rug in front of the TV, almost as interested in the movie as she had been. She padded back to the couch and plopped down on it, nestling into the warmth of her fleece blanket, letting relaxation take over. The movie began again as she settled in to watch it for the umpteenth time. It was her tradition, her yearly routine-she liked it that way.

And in an instant her whole routine was thrown outta whack.

A knock sounded at the door, startling Mia from where she was cat-napping on the couch, wrapped up in her fluffy blanket. She sat up and blinked before her eyes focused on the clock on the wall, noting the late hour and disbelieving that she'd managed to fall asleep in the middle of the movie.

"Who on earth?" She muttered to herself, rising from the couch and shivering when her feet hit the cold wooden floor. Peering out through the peephole when she reached the door, she observed a man standing on her front porch, an attractive man, with his arms wrapped tight around his torso as he fought to keep the bitter coldness out. She stepped back from the door and contemplated it a moment, before looking through the peephole again and deciding she'd find out what he wanted.

The door swung wide and she stifled a gasp when she was able to tell just how attractive he really was. He gave her a sheepish grin, the toe of his boot scraping at the snow covered front stoop he was standing on, before he spoke up.

"I'm so sorry to bother..." He began; and with those first words she felt her entire thought process derail at the smooth sound of his voice floating out through those impossibly pink lips.

"...borrow your phone?" He finished and she stared dumbly, blinking. "Wha-huh?"

He chuckled, the sound coming out more sing-songy than she'd ever heard before. "Sorry...I kind of zoned there on you, huh? I was napping when you knocked. Guess my brain is still on my couch."

Her rambling made him laugh more. "Oh man. I really am sorry. I promise I'll make this quick so you can get back to it." This time it was her turn to laugh. "It's no trouble. I probably needed to move to my bed anyway. How can I help you--?"

"Justin." He added, extending a hand to shake hers. She was shocked at how warm his hand was given the low temperatures outside.

"Mia."

One side of his mouth pulled into a lop-sided kind of smile and she found herself returning it. "Do you possibly have a phone I could use? My car decided to break down about a half mile back and there's like...no houses between here and there. And on top of that, my cell phone died."

Mia grimaced at his bad luck. "It sounds like it's just not your day, Justin. I do happen to have a phone. Come on in." He bowed his head to her before following her inside, hissing when the heat from her home hit his wind-burned cheeks.

"Thank you so much." He said, offering her a smile when she handed him her house phone. She had a cell phone but knew there was no way there'd be service out here, especially in this storm. A look out the kitchen window told her that what the weatherman had forecasted was pretty much right on target.

"Can I offer you anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Booze? All of the above?"

He gave her a heart stopping smile and she felt her own heart thunder against her ribcage. What was it about him and that smile?

"Coffee, if it's not too much trouble?" He asked, then added, "though I may take you up on that booze offer if I don't get the answer I'm looking for from the towing company."

Her gaze lingered out the window again and she had a feeling that no towing company would come out in this weather. It seemed to get worse with each passing second and she had the fleeting thought that he could be snowed in with her for the night. She fought the urge to smile at that when she let her eyes wander over to his form, standing across the counter from her, his eyes intent on the phone book in front of him. "No wonder your car broke down. This weather is terrible." Mia offered, attempting to squelch the silence between them. Justin looked up from the phone book and reached to scratch at the back of his neck. "Yeah...probably not the smartest idea I've ever had. But I had to drive tonight."

"Hey-you do what you gotta do. Why'd you ha--"

"Found it!" Justin exclaimed suddenly, cutting her off mid sentence. He had the phone poised to his ear, anxiously waiting for someone to pick up on the other line. While he was on the phone Mia busied herself making the coffee, doing everything she could to keep her thoughts away from the gorgeous stranger in her living room and what could happen if they were snowed in together tonight. She bit her lip with the thought.

Justin paced the expanse of her living room, listening to the man on the other end give him excuse after excuse about why a tow truck wouldn't be out ‘til the storm let up. It made sense to him-it really did-it just wasn't what he wanted to hear. "You don't know wh--" Justin hissed, catching himself before he could start yelling at the man on the other end of the line. "Sorry, it's just...I had somewhere important to be and...no...I understand. I'll be awaiting your call then. Uh-huh. Merry Christmas to you, too." He finished, albeit bitterly.

"So what'd they say?" Mia questioned as he came back into the kitchen, pouring coffee into a mug and sliding it across the counter top to Justin. He laid the phone back in the cradle and met her gaze, shaking his head.

"They said they won't dispatch anyone to come help me until the storm lets up." He replied, chancing a look out the window in the kitchen. His eyes widened when he realized that what he'd been driving through before was nothing compared to how it was coming down now. He couldn't even see past the first tree in her yard-which was only about five feet from the window he was currently standing next to. "And by the looks of it, it probably won't be until morning."

She shrugged. "That's alright. I've got a guest bedroom. You can just stay here until they come."

He took a sip of the coffee, enjoying the warmth of it as he swallowed. "Are you sure?"

She giggled. "What else are you going to do? Sleep in your car? Walk?"

"I could. I just...I don't want to be a burden. I am so incredibly sorry, Mia." He said apologetically, shuffling his feet nervously.

"Really, it's no big deal. We've already established that you're not a serial killer. At least, I don't think you are. If you are...you're the hottest serial killer I've ever seen."

Justin laughed. "Been around a lot?" He asked with an eyebrow raised playfully. She reached across the counter and slapped his shoulder lightly. "Smartass. I watch a lot of those cop shows...and they're always creepy looking."

"I can be creepy." He did his best to make a face at her which only prompted her to laugh at him. "Nope, you're ok." She responded, taking a sip of her own coffee. He looked down at his half empty coffee mug and frowned. "I hate to ask this, especially since you just went to the trouble of brewing this but--"

"You need something stronger." She finished, already heading to her liquor cabinet to pull out her bottle of Johnny Walker. "I'm on it." She turned to him with the bottle in hand and laughed at the look on his face. "You are my kinda woman, girl." He exclaimed, coming around the counter to dump the remains of his coffee in the sink before offering his mug to her. "Johnny's the man." She said with a grin, pouring some of the amber colored liquid into each of their mugs. "Well, shall we go get comfortable?" With a point towards the living room, they shuffled over to the cozy room and sat.

"I feel like this calls for a toast."

One eyebrow rose over the top of Mia's mug, the statement halting her sip. "To what? Misfortune?" She asked with a slight giggle. Misfortune for him, sure, but not so much for her. She was pretty sure she'd gotten the better end of the deal on this one. He shrugged. "Sure. And to my high priced car that can't take the damn cold. And to you-for being so incredibly nice and hospitable when you could've just left me out on the stoop to freeze my ass off."

"I'll drink to that. Though, I feel bad that you're stuck here tonight when you were clearly on your way to something, or someone, important. No one would brave that storm unless it wasn't." She says, and she's really hoping that if it's someone he was heading to, that it's not a girlfriend or wife. He nods at her solemnly, swishing the amber colored liquid around in his glass. "I was heading out to my parents house in Millington for the first Christmas in a few years." He admits.

"Oh-have you guys been elsewhere--" The question dies on her lips when she sees his face and she knows deep down that him going home for Christmas to his parents was a big deal. And she wants to know the story but doesn't want to prod him for answers-doesn't really know how to anyway.

"We had a pretty bad falling out." He supplies suddenly and now she doesn't know what to do because his statement is left wide open for interpretation. So, instead, she takes a drink of the alcohol in her glass, wincing as it burns its way down her throat. Why they'd opted for whiskey instead of coffee or wine or...anything but alcohol, really, is beyond her. Other than the fact that he'd wanted it because he'd had a shitty night and that she needed it to calm her nerves. Because being around him was kind of nerve wracking and unsettling and exciting all at once and she wasn't sure which emotion to go with that would make her feel more at ease and she couldn't figure out why he made her feel like that. Something in his stare maybe; the way those sapphire blue eyes of his would almost see through her. She shivered and felt those same eyes of his bore holes into her face as he wondered what was going through her mind.

"You're wondering why, right?" He asked softly and all she did was nod. "I told you I'm a lawyer, right?" He starts out.

"Yeah...in Nashville. Defense attorney." She supplies and he grins at her and she feels her insides turn to mush and thinks not for the first time that this is a bad idea. She's been alone for far too long and he's way too good looking to be alone with when she's in this kind of state. Damn that romance novel she'd been reading before she took her cat nap on the couch. It was at fault for putting her in this roused state.

And maybe his eyes were to blame too.

And lips...especially when he'd poke his tongue out to lick at them every few minutes. She could only imagine what it found feel like when it licked...

NO! She shouts in her head. That's as far as her thoughts should go.

"Have I lost you?" He questions and she's shocked back to reality by it, her eyes widening when she finds him sitting next to her on the couch instead of in the plush, overstuffed chair he'd originally been seated in.

"Did it again, huh?" She smiles sheepishly at him, yelling at herself that she needs to start paying more attention to the words coming out of his mouth than to his actual mouth. "It's ok. I did interrupt a nap. Are you sure you're not too tired? You can just go to bed."

And at the word bed she literally has to bite her tongue to keep from answering: "Only if you're joining me." Instead, she shakes her head. "It's fine. So you're a lawyer?" She asks, needing to get the subject back on track in her head so that her thoughts can't stray again.

"Yeah...they-didn't totally agree with my career choice."

"How come?"

He wishes he could answer that, really does, because in all honesty, he's still not exactly sure why they hate his job as much as they do. He's a damn good lawyer, currently the number two defense attorney in Nashville and barely ever loses a case. He made a name for himself while he was in school and was quickly picked up by the top defense attorney's office in the city. He'd never thought about working on that side of the spectrum, had always figured he'd be a prosecutor, but the money was good and he liked the perks he was offered with the company. Could his parents seriously blame him for wanting a job that afforded him the kind of lifestyle he wanted? Could anyone, for that matter?

But they did and they didn't agree with (or understand), the high demands that went with being in the position he was in. He was never home for special occasions when before he'd be there at the drop of a hat if asked. Add to the mix that they hated the girl he'd been engaged to and began spending holidays with her family because she liked Christmas in the Hamptons versus in his small little town and you had the snowball effect. One thing rolling into the next and creating a tension between he and his parents until they'd had a blow out of a fight one night almost two years earlier and they'd barely spoken or seen each other since. They didn't even flinch or offer their sympathies when he'd called to tell them that he and Carlee had called the engagement off. And that's when he knew things were really the worst they could possibly be.

Until tonight. Until his mom had called and given him that small sliver of hope that maybe things could turn around. And now it was all blown to hell.

"Oh, wow. That's awful." She sympathizes, feeling even more terrible and sorry for him that his night had taken the turn of events that it did. "You've just got to get home."

He laughs bitterly. "Then why do I feel like this happening to me tonight is a sign that I shouldn't have been going home?"

"You can't look at it like that." She says, reaching out to grasp his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. His once bright blue eyes, now wet with the hint of tears, train their gaze on where her hand is covering his.

"I don't know what to do." He says sadly, chancing a look out the window next to her fireplace and curses that he couldn't even see out of it now. She studied his face, her heart aching for the sadness she saw etched on his features and wanting nothing more than to be able to take it away.

But how? They couldn't very well leave with the way the snow was coming down now or they'd most likely end up in a worse situation than what he was currently in. She was sure her Expedition could navigate the icy roads with no problem, but not at night on these dark roads. They could always just...

"Why don't I drive you there in the morning? I remember the weatherman saying the snow wouldn't be coming down like this all day tomorrow. We'll get up, dig my SUV out, and head there as soon as we can."

The way his eyes lit up at her suggestion made her heart beat faster in her chest. "I can't let you--" He began to protest but she cut him off. "You're not letting me do anything. I'm telling you this is what we're going to do. You've got to get home to your family and mend the fence and I...well...I'm a sucker for a happy ending and I don't have anything to do tomorrow."

"Don't feed me that line. If you do have something to do, that's ok. I'll just give you gas money and you can drop me off there and they can bring me back to my car when the towing company finally calls."

"I'm not lying. All I had planned for tomorrow was to maybe go see a movie and cook some food. I never do anything over the holidays."

He suddenly felt bad for just dumping his whole story on her. "I was going to ask you about that but...I didn't want to pry and got all caught up in my own drama. I'm so sorry."

She waved him off. "It's no big. My family sucks; has since I was little so I've gotten used to spending Christmas with just me. Well, now it's Tootie and me but...you get the idea." He did get the idea, and he thought it sucked. What kind of family would willingly let their kid spend Christmas alone? Sure he'd spent a few by himself but that was all on him.

"Why don't you spend it with me then? My family would love to have you." He offered, a bright grin lighting up his face that she found hard to turn down. "Besides, if I bring a girl home maybe I won't get the whole ‘why aren't you settled down' speech from my Grannie." He said with a roll of his eyes and a chuckle.

"Are you sure? I don't want to-I mean, you need to talk to your family and get things--" He shushed her with a finger over her lips and she felt the tingle from his touch all the way down in her toes. "Nonsense. It'll be perfect!"

He drained the mug of the rest of his alcohol and reached for hers. "You finished? You want some more? I'm suddenly in a great mood." There was happiness in his eyes and she got caught up in it so quickly that she found herself saying yes, even though her body was telling her that it was time for bed. "I need to give my parents a quick call and tell them what's going on and then I'll be back. I'll fill your cup while I'm at it." The smile he threw over his shoulder at her as he was walking away nearly melted her into a puddle on her couch.

Justin grabbed the phone from the cradle and dialed his parent's home number, worrying his lip between his teeth as he wondered what they'd think of his excuse for not being there tonight. While the phone rang, he unscrewed the top from the Johnny Walker and poured more of the liquid into their mugs. Though he wasn't entirely sure that more alcohol was a good idea. He'd already been entertaining thoughts about the feel of her lips and how her mouth would taste ever since he'd felt their texture under his finger. Soft, supple, pink...and begging to be kissed. Especially now as he watched her gloss on some kind of shimmery stuff over them.

When his dad picked up the phone, he explained what had happened and promised that he'd be there, guest in tow, as early as he could be, and to wait to eat until he got there. If Mia was offering to drive him all the way to his house, he was going to make sure that she got a taste of the best cobbler ever baked. His dad understood and told him to be careful and to make sure that he thanked Mia for her hospitality and her help, profusely. As Justin gazed from the kitchen and into the living room and caught Mia fluffing her hair, he cocked his head and thought to himself that it wouldn't be any trouble thanking her, and was suddenly excited to be in a car with her tomorrow and for the ride back to her place.

"Alright dad, love you too." And glancing at the clock above the sink, noting it was just after midnight, he added, "Merry Christmas."

He hung up the phone and headed back into the living room, offering the mug to Mia before he sat down on the couch next to her again. "So what were you doing before I interrupted your peaceful evening?" He asked, stretching his legs out in front of him on the coffee table, copying her position. She rolled her head to look at him and grabbed for the remote between their bodies that were so close they were almost touching. She wondered why he was so close to her when her couch was so huge, but wasn't going to complain about it or open her mouth to question him. His body heat was comforting and with a deep breath in, she took in the scent of his skin and cologne and felt her head grow foggy. Well, foggier than the alcohol had already made it.

"Watching A Christmas Story, what else?" She replied with a grin, flicking the TV on. His eyes lit up. "Dude, this is my favorite Christmas movie--"

"I know every line." They both said at the same time before cracking up-to which Tootie turned her head from her spot on the floor to look at them curiously.

By mid-movie the alcohol had set in enough and they were both saying the lines right along with the characters, both relaxed and comfortable in each other's presence. And by the end of the movie, the singing of "Deck the Halls"-the Chinese restaurant version-had both of them in tears, Mia leaning heavily on Justin from laughing so hard. As the credits rolled, Mia decided she liked the spot against him, nestled under his arm. He was pretty sure he liked it too-she fit perfectly there and he was in no hurry to move. The movie started up again and they both yawned, knowing they should go to sleep but really too tired and comfortable to do anything about it.

Justin shifted in his spot, his right leg falling asleep from the position he'd had it in, and he couldn't stop the yawn from coming. "I think it's time to hit the sheets." He said sleepily, standing from the couch and stretching. "Me too." She replied, her voice thick. He offered his hand to her to pull her up from the couch and she stood quickly, almost falling into him from the pull.  They both chuckled when she crashed into his chest before she jumped back and put some distance between them.

"You can sleep in the guest room if you want. I just have to put sheets on."

He had the thought to tell her not to bother, that he'd just sleep on the couch, but the thought of a comfy bed overshadowed his want to make it easy on her. He followed her up the steps to the second floor of her place, his eyes trained on the sway of her hips the whole way. When she reached the top, she turned to make sure he was behind her and gave him a soft smile that made his heart rate increase and he wondered if she knew what he was doing to him.

"Here it is. Do you have a preference on sheets? I've got flannel or-whatever the other kind is."

He shrugged. "Whatever's easy."

She didn't know if it was the alcohol that made her this brave or her want to feel him against her again but she opened her mouth to answer him the way she'd wanted to earlier. "You climbing into my already made up bed would be easy." She blurted out, shocking both him and her.

He gave her a teasing smirk and winked. "It would be..."

She shook the thoughts out of her head that told her he was more than willing to take her up on the offer. "...but I'll just make up the bed." Part of him was disappointed but the other part knew that crawling into bed with someone he'd just met, and could possibly never see again after this weekend, made him think that she was right.

As they were putting the sheets on the bed he couldn't help but leave an offer open. There was just something about her that gave him the warm fuzzies and made him yearn to get to know her better. Maybe it was how understanding and sympathetic she'd been when he'd told her his story, or maybe it was how she hadn't let her rough upbringing leave a bad taste in her mouth about family or make her hard hearted; whatever the case-he knew he was interested. "Well, if you change your mind...I'm just down the hall." He teased, patting the edge of the bed and giving her a heart stopping smile. Mia felt her insides plummet to the floor. If he looked at her like that again she would definitely be taking him up on the offer.

Mia situated the comforter at the end of the bed and turned to head out the door, shuffling her feet slightly as if she was waiting for him to stop her. "Goodnight, Mia." He spoke softly, impossibly close behind her and she turned and bumped chests with him. She saw one side of his mouth tug, almost fighting a smile and a grin broke out on her face-he was just too cute. "Goodnight." She replied, matching his tone. He surprised her when he wrapped his arms around her torso and tugged her to him, enveloping her in a tight hug. "Thanks again. You saved my life." He whispered into the side of her head, one hand cradling the back of her neck as he pressed a kiss to her temple. She shivered against him at the feel of his lips and almost groaned when they were gone as quick as they'd come. She could barely breathe but managed to squeak out a quiet "you're welcome" before turning tail and bolting from the guest room. He stared after her retreating form and chuckled inwardly when he heard her door shut.