by Jeannie Moon
“Wow. I guess you know where everyone who is normally in the bookstore is hanging out.”
“It must be the theater crowd. Viti keeps the café open on nights the theater has events. I think tonight was a string quartet.”
“That’s great for her business, but bad for us.”
“No. We can just take our desserts to go.”
“Back to the bookstore, then?” He wouldn’t mind that. As long as he was with her, he didn’t care where they were.
“I was thinking my kitchen is probably more comfortable. And as much as Viti makes great food, I make better coffee.”
Her house. She was inviting him to her house. “That sounds perfect.”
Her smile, sweet and soft, affected him on the most visceral level. This woman, with her twists and turns, her history and her worries was becoming more important to him than she was before.
When they stepped inside, the warm air mingling with the scent of sugar, cinnamon, and butter brought him back to his family kitchen when he would come home from school before Christmas, and his mother had spent the day baking. Jars and containers were filled with different kinds of cookies and sweets, and the memory of Christmas, and his mother and home, made him nostalgic.
He knew scent was a powerful trigger. Between the heady aromas in the shop and the soft woman next to him, Dan was falling into an abyss of memories.
He’d become so wrapped up in the life he’d made as an author, that he’d forgotten where he’d started. Forgotten who had given him the time and the confidence to pursue his dream. Sure, he’d worked hard, and honed his craft, but it was this wonderful woman, and the girl she’d been, who gave him the courage to try in the first place.
“What are you thinking?” she asked him. Jane was bent slightly at the waist, her eyes surveying the contents of the case that held a dizzying array of goods.
“The apple tart looks good. But look at that.” Dan pointed at a gorgeous dessert of layered pastry, berries, and cream. “I had that once when I was in Europe. It would go right to my gut, but I’m tempted.”
“Mille-feuille. Mmm. I haven’t had it in years. There was a little French patisserie in London that I loved. When I lived there, I’d go at least once a week. They made it like no one else. Between that and the Pot de Crème, I put on ten pounds.”
“When did you live in London?”
“Long time ago. I had just finished my first year of grad school, and I had a short fellowship at the British Museum.”
“That must have been cool. What was your specialty?” He ordered the pastry and some macarons, while Jane ordered the chocolate mousse.
“I ended up focusing on Celtic history and folklore. Ireland, Wales, and Scotland were particular areas of interest for me. I was also doing a little research on Nordic raiders.”
“Wow. That’s intense. So when Ella wanted the Camelot Academy book…”
“God, I love that series,” she sighed. “It’s as magical as it should be. The author did great research. The premise is as grand as the twelfth-century legend, with a little of the darker fifth century sprinkled in. Kids just love it. I’m going to have a book discussion about the newest title over Christmas break, a lunch and learn, so the kids have something to do. Tell Ella, okay?”
“I will.” He loved listening to her talk. There was such affection and passion not just for the legends and history, but for books and children, as well. The depth of her love and understanding for all creatures, human and otherwise, made Dan feel honored to know this woman a little better than he did before. “Do you want to go back? To the UK?”
“I’d love to. I had such a good time living there. I had an adorable little flat in Covent Garden. It was a fourth-floor walkup, with an amazing view. So beautiful. I walked to work every day. You would have loved it. So many stories.” Her eyes looked distant, like she’d slipped away for a little bit. “Anyway, after that I had a few semesters back in New York, and then I was off to Scotland on that dig—”
The dig that never was, he thought. She was on her way home before it ever really got started. Her studies, and her career, were derailed with one horrible phone call. But in spite of the setback, Jane had made an amazing life for herself in Angel Harbor. She made an impact every single day, even if it wasn’t obvious.
They left the bakery and were standing on the street, neither of them focused on where they were going. Jane seemed to realize she was rambling.
“I guess we should head to my house. I think I promised you coffee.”
“You did. I’m parked right next to your store. Let’s go.” This time, instead of taking his arm, Jane reached down and clasped his hand. Lacing his fingers with hers was so incredibly easy, comfortable—it felt too good to be true.
Could they have a shot at something more than this odd, but special friendship? Did Dan have the nerve?
He had no idea. What he did know was that this woman changed the way he saw himself, and what he valued. Dan didn’t know if there was any way to turn back.
*
Of all the things Jane never expected this evening, the one she expected the least was that she would be sitting in a car next to Danny Gallo on the way to her house.
She’d walked to work that day, knowing the weather would be cooperative. Evening walks home were quick, and sometimes chilly, but she relished the quiet time to unwind from her day. Riding in a low-slung sports car, with French desserts in her lap, was definitely an interesting turn of events.
She couldn’t complain, though, because he was absolutely delicious. And Jane had to admit, she loved being with him, maybe even more now than she did when she was a silly teen.
He was easygoing and funny. His needs were simple, but his goals were still lofty. Dan was a man who took nothing for granted, and while she could sense this in him, it felt like it was new, and he was coming to grips with it himself. He still hadn’t filled her in on everything that had brought about his career pivot, and kept the details to what she already knew.
When he parked in her driveway, the outside lights came on and brought her home into focus. It was the home of her childhood, and her adulthood, and while both eras had their memories, the second act was not what she’d expected.
Maybe it was her own immaturity that had led to her being blindsided by the course correction. Sure, she’d weathered the grief and sadness over her father’s death and the loss of a career that she was passionate about, but was she happy now? Content?
She was. After all this time, Jane could honestly say that while her life wasn’t what she expected, she had no regrets. There was too much to be thankful for to ever be sorry.
Danny was leaning against the steering wheel, looking at the house through the windshield. He was quiet, his eyes unblinking as he took in the details.
“This is a really beautiful house. The changes you’ve made are subtle, and the character of the place…it suits you.”
“Thank you. It’s not large, but it’s perfect for us. Having a good-size piece of property so close to town is a big plus. Chloe appreciates that.”
He glanced over and that enchanting grin made an appearance. “It’s you. Charming, and elegant, but welcoming.”
“Elegant? I don’t know about that.”
“Sure it is. Look at the lines, at the way the room out the back extends without any jerky angles. The gardens are well proportioned, and I imagine bursts of color bring that rich gray to life in the spring and summer. It’s a perfect coastal cottage. Everything fits.”
“Wow,” she said, feeling the flush rise in her cheeks. “You’re great with words. Are you a writer or something?”
“Or something,” he replied. Yep. There was that grin again.
He pulled the door handle and exited the car leaving Jane in a puddle of her own thoughts. While she gathered her things, including the pastry box on her lap, Danny came around and opened the door. He took the box from her with one hand then extended the other to help her out, allowing her to r
elish the warmth of his touch. It was such a gentlemanly thing to do, and she so appreciated all the little courtesies.
She rarely dated, and if she did, Jane found the men lacking in so many ways. Not showing up on time, being attached to their devices, canceling at the last minute, or just general rudeness, seemed to be the order of the day. There was an abundance of self-importance, and a serious lack of gentility. Age wasn’t a factor either, as some people had suggested. Since she only dated men close to her own age, she often wondered if maybe she was too picky, that she had unrealistic expectations, but it had become more and more apparent that Jane was just a loser magnet. There was no other explanation.
The way Danny behaved, like being with her was more important to him than anything else, was a change she could get used to very quickly.
As they walked down the driveway toward the side door, he looked at the large double window when he heard Chloe’s bark of alarm. Her long nose had pushed aside the sheer curtains and she was smiling in anticipation.
“She knows we’re here,” he said. “That’s a happy dog.”
“I swear, she hears my car a block away.” The dog was going to go crazy when they walked in, and Jane hoped Danny was ready for all sixty-five pounds of wiggling fur that was going to hurtle in his direction. The dog absolutely loved him, and Jane was beginning to understand why.
He stopped suddenly and fixed his eyes on the end of the driveway. “Now that is a garage. It’s huge!”
Ah, testosterone. Her garage was the envy of almost every man in Angel Harbor. It was, as he declared, huge. “That it is. My dad built it after I left for college. It might have only slightly less square footage than my house.”
The bottom of the garage had three bays and was extra deep so there was plenty of room for a workbench and tool storage. Shingled in the same blue gray as the house, there was a little covered stoop on the side, which led to a set of stairs. The building had a full second story, which already had heat and plumbing roughed in. She hadn’t yet done anything with it, but often thought it would be a good office, guest suite, or even a space for Tara if she wanted a little more distance when she was at home during school breaks.
Writers needed space, didn’t they? Jane thought.
“It’s twice the size of my sister’s cottage, and that’s more than comfortable. How did I not notice it when we went to dinner the other night?”
“If you didn’t have the cottage at your sister’s, I’d suggest getting a place in town so you could, you know…” She hesitated. “Ah, visit more. I know a good realtor.”
“Hmm. Something to think about. But I wouldn’t be able to make trouble with the kids as easily if I wasn’t right there.”
Jane laughed. “Noted.”
He stood back while she unlocked the door, and they both braced for Chloe’s greeting.
Dan set the pastries down on the washing machine just inside the back door and went down on one knee. The dog’s entire back end flew from side to side, not because Jane was home after a long day, but because Chloe’s new best friend had come for a visit.
Jane admired her dog’s taste in humans. It was, indeed, exceptional.
Chapter Nine
“I don’t know how you can say Die Hard is a Christmas movie.” Jane took the plate from in front of him and walked to the sink. The man had eaten his weight in baked goods and was still picking at one of the macarons that was left in the box.
“Sorry. I’m not budging on this,” he said before licking a bit of chocolate cream off his index finger.
“It’s set at Christmas, but it’s NOT in the genre.” This was a ridiculous argument. Why was it even a thing?
“You’re a holiday movie snob,” he teased. “It’s a Christmas movie. There are Christmas carols is in it. Christmas lights.”
“Are you serious?”
Danny laughed. “Christmas is mentioned in the script eighteen times!”
Jane shook her head. Now he was just messing with her. “Eighteen times? I’m sorry. Why do you actually know that?”
“I’m a lawyer. It’s how I win arguments.”
He was going to pull the lawyer card? He had no idea who he was dealing with.
She was a scientist; facts were her wheelhouse. “Was it the intent of the studio and the filmmaker to market it as a Christmas movie, counselor?” Jane turned to face him and reached back to place her hands on the edge of the cool granite countertop.
“What did you say? Intent? I’m not going to dither over intent.”
Rising, he picked up both coffee mugs and moved to where she was standing, setting the mugs in the sink before turning to her with a smile. “You’re not going to win this, Janie.”
She narrowed her eyes. That silly man. “Intent doesn’t matter?”
“No.”
“Hmm. Attempted murder, robbery, assault. That sounds to me like intent matters. Attempt to defraud? Intent.”
“Those are crimes. It’s not the same thing.” His eyes narrowed, however, and she could see that her argument had hit home.
“Calling a movie about a murderous gang of bank robbers a Christmas movie is a crime.”
“Come on.” He folded his arms, digging in.
“No. It was released in July. It was never marketed with any Christmas theme. The tag line focused on the adventure aspect. Not. A. Christmas. Movie. Santa wasn’t even in the movie, not once.”
Danny chuckled and moved a little closer. His scent was subtle, but made her oh-so-aware of his proximity. Bergamot, cedar, spice. Just like the other night.
“We’re going to have to agree to disagree then.”
“Fine.” Jane folded her arms and looked away. She couldn’t keep up with the zing of desire pulsing through her. The man was lethal. “You’ll still be wrong,” she muttered.
When she glanced over, she saw his smile, while his blue eyes flashed with humor. And heat. Intense heat that traveled through her body on a wave.
Jane remembered these feelings all too well. She’d hoped she’d be immune to him after all this time, but it appeared the years and the maturity only made him more attractive. But Danny wasn’t staying in Angel Harbor. He had come home with a specific goal, and a relationship with a small-town shopkeeper wasn’t it.
For so long, Jane had kept her emotions wrapped up tight. Now she was on the cusp of letting go of all that control because of the wonderful boy who was now an amazing man.
She shuddered when he reached out and took her hand. He was so close, she could feel the heat coming off of his big body.
He filled the space, six feet tall, broad and muscled. Danny’s proximity caused the warmth to bubble and churn in her belly. When his other hand came up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Jane was undone.
“You’re still the same, you know?”
“The same?” Jane looked up and nearly drowned in the blue of his eyes. “How so?”
“Sweet. Kind. Always thinking about others.”
The words floated around her, dredging up the old feelings even more. She remembered the little wisps of hurt in her heart every time she heard news of a new book, or movie, or saw photos of his glamorous author life.
She wasn’t enough for him. She knew it then, and it was still true now.
What she needed was a little distance, and the car door slamming outside gave her the perfect excuse to step back.
“That’s Tara.” Jane could barely hear her own voice over the pounding of her heart. It took a second for her words to register, but when they did, he dropped his hands.
“Right.” The disappointment cast a shadow in his eyes, and it forced her consider what might be going on in his head. Did he want more? Was he feeling the same pull she felt, something that went beyond just a fling?
“What’s wrong, Jane? Tell me.”
Was something wrong, or was Jane just a realist? Sometimes the truth hurt.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Jane felt the flush rising in her chee
ks. Fabulous.
He was about to speak when Chloe hopped off her bed, ran to the side door, and started barking. In seconds she heard Tara greeting the dog.
“Mom!” her daughter said, excited and breathless. “It didn’t suck! I was really worried, but—” Tara stopped short when she walked into the kitchen and saw Danny leaning against the counter right next to her very red-faced mother. “Oh, hi.”
His hand came up in a little wave.
“So, it went well?” Jane asked. “No missed cues? No set disasters?”
Tara shifted her gaze back to Jane and nodded. “It was perfect. Everyone loved it. I can’t wait for you to see it tomorrow. Aunt Tracy is going to pee herself.”
Danny looked away, grinning at that little bit of information.
“About that. She called. She can’t make it.”
“Oh no! So you’re flying solo?”
Jane went out by herself all the time. Tracy had a wonderful husband, and she wasn’t always available to be Jane’s wingman. She’d checked with Viti and Claire, and both of them were busy as well. “It’s fine. I’ll run into someone I know.”
“I’ll go with you.” Danny had moved to one of the stools at the kitchen island, looking casual and completely at ease with the suggestion. He was obviously out of his mind. He shrugged while Jane stood there, stunned silent. “What?” he asked indignantly. “Got a hot date?”
“No. But, um, I guess I don’t understand. There will be a lot of people there. You don’t have to come with me.”
“That’s actually perfect,” Tara said clapping her hands together. “Have you been back to school since you graduated?”
“I have not,” Danny said.
“Then I’ll have to give you a tour of the new theater complex. It was renovated two years ago. The entire auditorium, and music hall. It cost a fortune. Five million dollars, all donated.”
“Wow,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Someone has deep pockets.”
