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The Secret of Santa

Page 2

by Liz Isaacson

“Honestly, what I always do isn’t working for me,” Ace said.

  “You stop stuffing your face,” Bishop said. “You go brush your teeth real good. Get your hair all fixed up under that cowboy hat. Make sure your clothes are clean.”

  “I was going to see her at dinner,” Ace said. “I’m ready.” Maybe he should brush his teeth, though.

  “You know where she lives. You know she’s still dealing with press or City Council members. You go wait in her driveway, and when she gets home, there you are. You hold up your phone, and you say, ‘I don’t want to take a break. Life is busy, Holly Ann. Are we going to break up every time you get a little busy? Heck, I’m busy all the dang time. I work overnight during birthing season. I ride for twenty hours during round-up. I go out at three a.m. to start planting, which takes over a month. I—”

  “I get it,” Ace said, holding up his hand so Bishop would stop.

  He did, and the two of them looked at one another. Hope started to collect in Ace’s chest, and it pressed against his heart, which banged like a drum.

  “I go tell her no, I don’t want to take a break,” Ace mused. “I don’t just let her dictate to me how things are going to be.”

  “That’s right,” Bishop said. “You go fight for her. For the two of you. For your relationship." He grinned at Ace. “Women like that. And we—” He gestured between the two of them, and then around the room, likely indicating every man on this ranch. “We never do that. We never just say, ‘no, that won’t work for me.’”

  “Ranger did,” Ace said quietly. “When Oakley wanted to date him and other men…he said no. That won’t work for me.” He looked at Bishop, his eyes wide.

  “And now she’s his wife.”

  “This might work.”

  Bishop chuckled and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. The moment sobered, and then he asked, “Why are you still here? Go. Go already!”

  Ace got to his feet, his heart racing. He didn’t do things like this. He wasn’t even sure where to start.

  “Teeth,” Bishop said. “Just in case there’s any kissing, you don’t need that frog eye breath.”

  “Teeth,” Ace said, striding out of the office and taking the steps up to his room.

  Bishop followed him, saying, “Then you need to wipe your face. Spray some of that sexy cologne on your collar. Drive down to her house, and wait. That’s it, Ace. You can do that.”

  Ace brushed his teeth and washed his face. He let Bishop spray the cologne, and then he was ready to go.

  “Drive, wait, talk to her,” Ace said, his fear diving through him. He really didn’t do things like this.

  “You look great,” Bishop said, looking down to Ace’s boots and back to his hat. “Everything is on-point. You’ve got this.”

  “Thanks.” Ace drew in a lung full of air and held it. “Okay, well, will you tell Mister and Ward where I am?”

  Bishop started to say yes, and then said, “Mister?”

  “He lives here,” Ace said.

  “No, he doesn’t,” Bishop said. “He lives up in a cabin by my mother.”

  Ace shook his head. “He told everyone that, but there aren’t even dishes in that cabin. Or toilet paper. He sleeps in one of the bedrooms in the basement.” Ace started downstairs to the kitchen to get the keys to his truck. “We keep tellin’ him to go get his clothes and just bring it all down here. He doesn’t want anyone to know he lives here.”

  “Of course we’re going to know. We’ll see him go in and out.”

  “You live right next door and didn’t know.” Ace cocked his eyebrow at Bishop. “He’s been here for months.”

  “Huh.”

  “He just needs to be left alone,” Ace said. “We all feel like that from time to time.”

  “Yes, we do,” Bishop said.

  “Okay.” Ace opened the drawer and took out his keys. “Here I go.”

  “Good luck,” Bishop called after him, and Ace leaned on his luck all the way to Holly Ann’s.

  Her windows were dark, but she had outside lights on. He pulled right into her driveway, leaving only half for her, adjusted the radio so it wasn’t quite so loud, and unbuckled his seatbelt so he could settle in to wait.

  He didn’t have to wait long, actually. Only about twenty minutes went by before a pair of headlights carved their way through the darkness and her SUV eased to a stop next to his truck.

  “Now or never,” he whispered to himself. He’d steadfastly refused to pray, because he felt like he jinxed himself every time he did. The Lord seemed to think it would be funny to do the exact opposite of what Ace prayed for anyway. He didn’t see the point anymore.

  He got out of the truck and rounded the back of it so he was approaching Holly Ann as she got out of her SUV. She carried an oversized purse, a forty-four-ounce soda cup, and a bag of take-out.

  “Ace,” she said, her voice full of shock. “What are you doing here?”

  He hadn’t memorized Bishop’s speech, but Ace had never really had a problem speaking his mind. He held up his phone. “I don’t want to take a break.” He cleared his throat. “Life is busy, Holly Ann. We can’t break up every single time you have something going on in your life. That’s not how real relationships work.”

  She stared at him, her eyes wide. She was stunning, even with only the light from her car spilling onto her, and the house lights haloing her from behind. She wasn’t wearing a jacket over her nearly sheer blouse, as it was the same one she’d worn on-camera.

  He’d been able to see the outline of her black camisole underneath the blouse, which was cream-colored and covered with multi-colored stars. She’d paired it with a black pencil skirt and a sexy pair of ankle boots that gave her an extra three inches.

  He did not want to break up with her. He was not going to let her break up with him. He wished she’d say something.

  The tension in her shoulders broke, and she eased out of the way of her door, using her foot to close it. “Do you want to come in?”

  “Yes,” he said instantly. “Let me help you with all of that.” He stepped forward and took her drink and her food. She smiled at him, and it wasn’t the horrible, fake smile he’d seen on TV. His hope rebounded and shot into the sky, because maybe—just maybe—doing something he’d never done before would get him something he’d never gotten before.

  Chapter Two

  Holly Ann Broadbent put her heavy purse down on the built-in desk in her kitchen while Ace Glover set her food and drink on the counter. Her little brown and white dog, Snickers, yipped at her, jumping up on her legs in excitement.

  “Yes, I see you,” she said, grinning at the dog. “I left you home for so long, didn’t I?” She scooped him into her arms and took him to the sliding glass door. “Go out and go potty.” The little dog ran into the darkness, and she flipped the switch to turn on the lights in the back yard.

  Turning around, she faced Ace. She couldn’t believe he was here. He had a lot of nerve to be sitting in her driveway this late at night. She could’ve called the cops on him for loitering and scaring her half to death. If she hadn’t recognized that half-ton truck in an unusual matte gray the color of river mud, she would have.

  At the same time, every cell in her body vibrated with a new kind of energy, all of it screaming, Ace Glover is here!

  Ace Glover didn’t just give up this time!

  “Did you eat?” she asked, reaching for the white paper bag her Chinese food had come in. “I have plenty.” She glanced at him, but she’d never been able to just take a casual look. Ace demanded that she really soak him in, even when she tried not to.

  Tonight, he wore a sexy pair of dark wash jeans that made his legs look impossibly long. He always had the cowboy boots, the cowboy hat, and the belt buckle. Always. They were three of her favorite things about Ace.

  His gray shirt peeked through his jacket at his throat, only a triangle of light against the dark brown leather. He lit her up every time he walked in the room. Every singl
e time.

  “I ate,” he said, and she wondered how much time had gone by while she drank him in. She hadn’t even taken one container out of the bag yet, so probably not much.

  “Did you hear what I said outside?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, opening the box and getting a nose full of orange mixed with fried food. Her stomach growled, and her mouth watered. “That’s why I invited you in.”

  “So…we’re not breaking up?”

  “You said you didn’t want to.”

  “I don’t.”

  “I’m going to be incredibly busy.” Not only that, but Holly Ann didn’t deal well with stress or exhaustion. She would be both stressed and exhausted, constantly, from now until New Year’s Day. “And Ace, you thought I was bad when I was taking care of Snickers after his surgery, and catering events, and no one was sleeping. This is going to be ten times worse.”

  “I’ll come sit with you while you sleep,” he said quietly.

  Holly Ann saw no point in dirtying a plate she’d have to wash later, so she took the whole bag and a fork to the table and sat down. A groan came out of her mouth, because while these boots were adorable, they also pinched her toes and reminded her that she carried fifty extra pounds and doing that on a heel no wider than a penny was hard work for her feet and calves. Really hard work.

  “I’ll come rub your feet after a long day of baking and then Christmassing.” He stepped over to the door and opened it for Snickers, who hopped inside and trotted right over to her side, clearly wanting some Chinese food too.

  She grinned at Ace, and he took that to mean he could sit at the table with her, which he did. He didn’t touch her, though Holly Ann wouldn’t have objected to that either.

  She didn’t want to break up with him, especially now that he’d shown up to fight for their relationship.

  “I can support you while you’re busy,” he said while she opened her ham fried rice. “When I’m busy, and you’re not, you can support me.”

  “Sounds romantic,” Holly Ann said, tossing him a dry look. She loved the romantic things of the world, but she was practical too.

  “It’s called real life,” Ace said, his voice somewhat sour. “You don’t see marriages breaking up when someone gets too busy.”

  “Actually,” Holly Ann said, spearing a piece of orange chicken and rolling it around in her ham fried rice. “You do see that.” She put the food in her mouth, at least a dozen things getting satisfied with just that simple action.

  “Holly Ann,” he said. “Not every marriage is going to end the way your parents’ did.”

  She sucked in a breath and glared at him. “I know that.”

  “Okay.” He backed right down, and Holly Ann wasn’t sure if she liked that or not. No one usually spoke to her like that. They let her wallow in her reasons why she didn’t date too seriously—or at least why she hadn’t until Ace Glover.

  They said things like, “You’re right, Holly Ann,” and “It’s hard to maintain a relationship with someone who’s so busy all the time.”

  Ace might have even said those things in the past. He hadn’t tonight.

  “Sorry,” she murmured, pinching a tiny piece of chicken between her thumb and forefinger and feeding it to Snickers. “It’s just, I…I don’t know how to keep everyone happy.”

  “That’s not your job,” he said. “I know how to make myself happy, and Holly Ann, you’re a big part of that. I’m very unhappy without you, and I’d rather bring you dinner so you can keep working, or volunteer to pick up the popcorn for an event so you don’t have to, or coordinate with the pastor to make your life easier, than not talk to you. Than not see you at all. Than think about you all dang day and all night, wondering why I’m not good enough for you.”

  He pulled in a breath, which inflated his chest, widening it the same way Holly Ann’s eyes had widened with every word he’d spoken.

  He thought about her all day and all night?

  He’d rather bring her dinner and call that a relationship?

  He thought he wasn’t good enough for her?

  Holly swallowed and dropped her gaze to her gooey orange chicken. “I apologize if I’ve ever given you the feeling that you are not good enough for me,” she said. “That is simply not true, nor has it ever been true, and whatever I did to give you that impression, I’m sorry.”

  Ace said nothing while she rolled around another piece of chicken, popped it into her mouth, and ate it.

  She fed Snickers another chicken snack and finally looked up at Ace, and he seemed to be warring with himself.

  “You made me feel like that when you chose Three Cakes over me,” he said. “And you did it again tonight, by suggesting we end things between us so you can run the Christmas Festival.”

  Holly Ann opened her mouth to deny such a thing, but her mind thankfully worked faster than her voice. She snapped her mouth closed when she realized he was right.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I didn’t realize it.”

  “You didn’t realize it?”

  “I—” She stabbed another piece of chicken, wishing it was her own eyeball. “I sometimes get caught up in things, is all,” she said. “I have a hard time focusing on more than one thing at a time.”

  “You can use your ADD or your dyslexia all you want,” he said. “I understand they’re real, and they’re hard for you. But I’m sitting right here, telling you that I’m not going anywhere. In fact, I can help you focus on us when it’s the right time, and the Christmas Festival when it’s time for that.”

  Holly Ann nodded and doctored up her next bite of chicken. “You’re the one who’s too good for me, Ace.”

  “That’s nonsense,” he said. “We really should stop thinking that about ourselves.”

  “I will if you will.”

  “Deal,” he said, and she loved this back-and-forth between them. They’d always gotten along so well, and Ace was one of the easiest men for Holly Ann to talk to.

  “I don’t want to break up,” she said.

  “Good,” he said. “Neither do I.”

  She ate another bite of chicken, and then asked, “So where do we go from here?”

  He grinned at her and reached over to take her fork-less hand between both of his. “You open your calendar, sweetheart, and you tell me when you’re available for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. I’ll take you out or bring the food to you. Whatever you want. If it’s twenty minutes, it’s twenty minutes.”

  He looked at her with those beautiful, sky-blue eyes, so full of hope and desire, and Holly Ann loved being looked at by Ace. “I just want to be with you. Deal?”

  “Deal,” she said, a yawn immediately following. “Will you stay while I change into something that’s not squeezing me like a python?”

  He chuckled and slid his hands away from hers. “Sure.”

  “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?” she whispered. “I’m so tired.”

  “Yes,” he said, his voice quiet too. “Go change and come lay with me on the couch.”

  Holly Ann took one more bite of chicken and rice and went to do exactly what Ace had suggested. She could admit that coming home alone added to her burden, and when she’d realized it was Ace waiting for her in the driveway, she’d been almost giddy.

  “Come on, Snickers,” she said to the little dog, who trotted into her bedroom after her.

  After closing the door, she stripped out of her confining clothes and tossed them toward the closet. The red Santa suit hanging there caught her attention, and she pulled in a tight breath. Crossing the room quickly, she closed the closet door so the suit couldn’t be seen from the doorway.

  Not that Ace would be there. She’d closed the door besides.

  Still. “He can’t know about that,” she whispered to Snickers. “That’s why I needed to take a break.” She looked from closed door to closed door, her heart battling with her brain.

  We can do it, her heart said. He’ll never know. He works up at that ran
ch a lot. It’s fine.

  This is too risky, her brain said. We don’t care how handsome he is, or how many times he says such perfect things. He can never know you wear the suit.

  “He won’t,” she vowed, going with her heart for maybe the first time in her life. She could only add a prayer to her internal debate that following her heart wasn’t going to be the biggest mistake of her life.

  Chapter Three

  Ace entered the kitchen the next morning, a whistle coming from his mouth. “Morning, all,” he said to his brother and his cousin, who both sat at the table opposite the island.

  Ward looked up from his bowl of oatmeal, his eyebrows raised high over those dark blue eyes. “What’s with you?”

  “Nothing,” Ace said with a grin, though he had plenty going on with him. “What’s with you?”

  Ward looked at Mister, who bit into a piece of toast as if nothing was different with Ace. Ace appreciated that about Mister. He didn’t enjoy drama, that much was certain. Ward didn’t either, and Ace always found himself in the middle of something the others didn’t. He put himself out there more than almost any other Glover too, and that definitely made his life more interesting than the other cowboys at Shiloh Ridge Ranch.

  “He went to town last night,” Mister finally said, after chewing and swallowing his toast. “He didn’t bring back any milk, though, so I don’t think it was to get groceries.”

  “Groceries is today,” Ace said, opening the fridge and daring to turn his back on Ward and Mister. “So tell me what you want. Cactus and I will get it all.”

  “Cream,” Ward said. “We never have enough cream. You need to buy twice as much.”

  “If you’d make oatmeal with water, we wouldn’t need gallons of cream,” Ace said without turning from the fridge. Leftovers from last night’s meal at the homestead sat on the top shelf, and Ace normally liked any type of food for breakfast.

  Today, though, he felt like pancakes. He pulled the eggs out of the fridge and asked, “Do we not have any milk, then?”

  “There’s a swallow or two,” Mister said. “Not enough for cereal.”

 

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