No way. No one deserved to put up with Southern mamas and aunts and all their pressure and assumptions.
He swallowed and excused himself, pulling his phone from his pocket.
After all, he hardly knew CarolinaGirl. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was a little too much to have a date on Christmas Eve. Maybe he wasn’t even ready to pretend he had a date, anyway. Not in front of his family. Not publicly.
Opening their chat, Knox thought of what to say. What to do. Cancel their date altogether? Tell her the party was a bust? Ask if she knew of a place they could grab a bite to eat?
Because there was no way he would do this to a girl he was genuinely interested in. There was no way he’d let her meet his family.
At least, not on Christmas Eve. Not at the Calhoun Family Christmas Party.
Chapter 13—Paisley
She opened the message, her gut clenching inexplicably.
CarolinaGirl, let’s skip the party, after all. I know a place in town that might be open tonight… I’m sorry to change plans…
The butterflies that had been swirling all night long crashed together and sank to the pit of her stomach.
For some reason, BeachBum’s text read like a letdown. He wasn’t exactly cancelling, but…
“Paisley!”
She looked up to see Shelby dragging a stranger her way.
“Have you met Coach Kern? We bumped into each other at Sweet Caroline’s, you see, and he happens to be a dog lover just like me, and he was the winner of our raffle—” As Shelby said the words, her enunciation clued Paisley into the fact that this was the man from their phone call. The hottest ticket in town who also happened to be single. “Anyway, Paisley, we sort of just hit it off and well…”
She tried for a smile. “Is that your first name?” she teased. “Coach?”
Shelby was too infatuated to piece together the joke, but the man replied easily, “Ben, actually. Nice to meet you…”
“Paisley,” Shelby rushed to fill in the blank. “Paisley is my boss. She’s phenomenal. Our business is kind of, sort of, well struggling, so she’s trying to find a boyfr—”
“Shelby,” Paisley hissed, glaring at Paisley. “It was nice to meet you, Ben. I, um, I actually have to go.”
“Oh, right!” Shelby stage-whispered dramatically. “Your date.”
Then, Shelby’s eyes grew wide, and she looked past Paisley then settled her gaze on something above her head.
Paisley turned around and just as she made sense of the impossibly attractive stranger who now shared the doorframe with her, Shelby squealed, “You two are standing under my mistletoe!”
Chapter 14—Knox
“Um, hi,” Knox managed awkwardly, as his eyes adjusted to the scene. He’d somehow stumbled into the open French doors at the back of the house and right into Shelby and Kern and—
“Knox, this is Paisley. My boss.”
He swallowed and took a half-step away, glancing up at the small green foliage dangling above them and then back down to the unfamiliar woman. Unfamiliar, and yet somehow… familiar.
Reddish-blonde hair swept across her shoulders in pretty, soft curls. So soft he wanted to reach out and twist one around his finger. Green eyes, glowing in the dim light from the nearby Christmas lights. He shook his head. “I’m—”
“Paisley, this is Knox. My brother,” Shelby inserted, her voice filled with every single thing he’d ever done to annoy her in the entirety of their lives.
He smirked at his sister before recalling the message he’d just sent. He hadn’t felt his phone vibrate in response yet, and now his attention was divided.
“It’s nice to meet you, Knox,” Paisley replied, her voice quiet. “I, um, I have to—”
“She has a date,” Shelby spat. “And I heard you do, too?”
His sister lifted an eyebrow at him, and he cleared his throat.
“What a waste.” Shelby shook her head.
“What?” He frowned, laughing nervously and glancing at Paisley.
Shelby shoved her finger above them. “You can’t just stand there, you know. Date or no date, get it over with.” She propped her free hand on her hip.
“Oh, right,” Knox replied, knitting his eyebrows together as he digested everything unfolding. His proximity to a beautiful woman. The other assumedly beautiful woman who might be replying to him just now, as he stood here in front of his bossy sister with her boss who seemed all but disinterested in the entire thing.
“Shelby,” the woman’s voice cut an edge through the air. Then she turned to Knox. “I’m sorry, this is… awkward.”
He agreed.
“Paisley, this is our homage. You can’t just ignore it.”
Sensing a growing frustration in the poor woman, Knox turned to her. “I, um, I think you’ve got a great business model. I’m sorry that your business partner is a little pushy, though.” He threw a sidelong glance at his sister, and it broke the tension enough for him to lean down and brush his lips against Paisley’s cheek. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered.
She smelled like cinnamon and apple butter, and Knox seriously considered deleting the dating app right then and there, but he wasn’t that way.
So, instead, he took a step to his sister, gave her a peck on the cheek, too and started off to find his mother and father.
Because Knox had already made a Christmas Eve date, and even a beautiful stranger wouldn’t get in his way.
Besides, he’d overheard she had a date, too.
Chapter 15—Paisley
By the time Knox had kissed her and Shelby, he strode quickly away, and Paisley felt numb.
She frowned at Shelby. “That’s your brother?”
Coach Kern—Ben—bumped into one of his students, a younger Calhoun cousin who was going out for track in the spring, and his attention was firmly torn away from a now pouty Shelby.
“Yes?” Shelby replied. “So?”
“Oh.” Paisley shrugged. “He’s, um, dating someone?”
Shelby rolled her eyes. “Knox doesn’t date. He’s totally disinterested. But yeah. I mean, I guess tonight he’s pretending he has a date so he can get out of this party.”
“Oh.” Paisley pulled her phone out and studied BeachBum’s message. She flicked a glance at Shelby again. “I’m just, um, surprised you never tried to—” She let the comment fade away, embarrassed now to even say it.
“Tried to set you up?” Shelby crossed her arms. “Trust me. If I’da thought you and Knox would make a good match, I’d’ve locked you in an elevator together or something. You wouldn’t like Knox. He’s not your type. Trust me.”
Paisley did trust her. He was alarmingly handsome, no doubt. Tall. Olive toned and blue eyed and dark haired… but it would be entirely indecent. No matter how desperate she was to find someone to even pretend to be her boyfriend, she’d never resort to her vice president’s brother. Especially since he was obviously anxious to meet his so-called date.
She tapped out a quick reply to BeachBum. Sure. Just tell me where to go. Then she looked up. “Right. Knox definitely doesn’t… seem like my type.”
Shelby was searching for Ben, who’d followed the earnest Calhoun boy over to another cousin, a potential recruit, no doubt. “Knox is annoying, trust me. Immature, even though he’s older. I always thought that was why he became a teacher. To play out some missed childhood or something. You know? Don’t they say that about the oldest in the family? They’re too responsible as kids, so they end up with an early midlife crisis?”
Paisley had never heard such nonsense, but she nodded along, gripping her phone and praying for a quick answer from BeachBum.
Shelby went on, “And anyway, he just doesn’t fit in with our family. Never goes hunting with Daddy or fishin’ with Bragg. He’s going to be a bachelor for life. I pity the girl who he claims he has a date with. She’s in for a whole lotta nothing.”
“What do you mean a whole lotta nothing?” Paisley asked, trying her hardest to be patient for a
reply.
“Knox can’t commit to so much as a lunch date with our mom. He sure as heck would never commit to a relationship.”
But whatever Shelby was saying now drifted in one ear and out the other, because BeachBum had written her back.
Sweet Caroline’s. I can be there in fifteen minutes.
Chapter 16—Knox
Determined to meet CarolinaGirl, he slipped in and out of people as he tried to track down his mom. Five minutes into his search, someone gave him a clue that she was down at the bonfire on the beach with his father.
He sent a message to CarolinaGirl then headed that way, anxious to tell his mom that not only was he leaving, but he was leaving to go on a date.
If things went well, then yes, maybe they’d come back to the party. But she shouldn’t count on it.
All this competed in his head with the image of Shelby’s pretty boss. He couldn’t shake the familiarity of her. The contradictions about her—her sleek style offset by the silly Christmas necklace. The piercing green eyes and soft reddish waves. Porcelain skin, fragile and delicate but a cutting tone in her voice, and the sharpness of her cheekbone against his lips.
He pushed his sister’s boss out of his head and focused all of his energy on getting to Sweet Caroline’s. Once there, he could put his questions to rest for good.
What did CarolinaGirl look like? What did she smell like? Feel like? Why was she free on Christmas Eve? What happened to her parents? Where did she grow up? Who did she spend her time with? These were all big questions, and maybe the answers would be no good, but Knox needed to know. He needed to know who was behind the cheesy romance books and the software gig and the witty messages and the feeling he had in his gut.
“Knox!”
The voice wafted to him from the deck just as Knox skipped down onto the cobblestone walk that would wrap him around to the south side of the house, toward the bonfire.
He looked up to see Beau waving wildly.
“Hey, man,” Knox called. “I gotta head out.”
“Just wait a sec!” Beau answered, waving his hand to someone nearby before he started down toward the path.
Knox waited a beat until his cousin caught up. “Hey, what’s up?”
Beau, out of breath after the short jog, asked, “Where is she?”
“Who?” Knox replied.
“The girl from the Mistletoe thing.”
Confused, the image of Paisley returned in full force. “Shelby’s boss? It was just a peck on the cheek. I—”
“What are you talking about? I mean the app.”
“Oh.” Knox frowned and shook his head. “I—yeah, no, that was just…”
“What was just a peck?” Beau wiggled his eyebrows, but Knox was already walking, scanning the beach for his parents. They’d kill him if he left without a goodbye, but they’d praise him for his reason for leaving.
“Nothing. I’m meeting CarolinaGirl at Sweet Caroline’s in like ten minutes. If I don’t hurry, I’ll be late.”
Then, just as he was about to shoo Beau back up to the party, he spotted the bonfire and a small group nearby. Something seemed off about the picture. Instead of huddling around the fire, they were huddled to the side of it. He could see his mother and Bliss, each with a hand on someone. Bliss’ husband was striding away, his phone outstretched ahead of him.
In the center of the semi huddle was Knox’s dad, bent over. And just as Knox made it within a few yards, Bridger’s form collapsed onto the beach, a spasming, rigid figure, his body seizing in the sand.
Chapter 17—Paisley
She had to use her phone to find the café, and once she did, she wasn’t convinced it was open, let alone peopled.
But once she parked and strode cautiously to the door, the little eatery was indeed open and not even empty. A couple of quiet individuals peppered the place, so she stepped in, pushing her hand into her hair and praying for a little volume.
Then, she scanned. All she needed was to spot a man sitting alone who wasn’t graying quite yet. According to his profile, he’d have dark hair and be just over six feet; although, she couldn’t well tell someone’s height if they were hunkered down in a café booth.
No one appeared to match the description, and Paisley wasn’t sure whether to cut back outside in the chilly night air, or duck into her car and hide out until he arrived first, or just plop down and give in to a particularly festive-looking hot cocoa.
The cocoa won out. After all, she’d been nibbling on nothing more than baby carrots all night, and her appetite was such that she couldn’t possibly go on without a little something in her tummy, even if it were hot milk and cocoa powder and scrumptiously thick whipped cream…
“Hi,” she said to the hostess, her excitement clinging on for dear life. “Table for two, please?”
“Right this way, hon,” the kindly woman answered, seating her at the window.
As she slid onto the vinyl seat, Paisley peered outside, hoping for a glimpse of BeachBum. With no one in sight, she accepted the menu and thanked the waitress.
“Coffee?”
“I’d love one of those tasty-looking cocoas.” Paisley pointed to a whipped cream-topped mug teetering at the edge of one older gentleman’s elbow on the counter.
“Sure thing. Slice of pie? Cinnamon bun?”
“Pie sounds great. Do you have pumpkin?” Paisley’s appetite returned in full force now. Maybe this was what it meant to be downhome. Tucked neatly in an old-fashioned café booth, a world of sweets at her fingertips, and a stomach so hungry she might just wipe the place out, despite the fact her date was en route. The inevitability of a bloated midsection held no threat now.
“No, hon. We don’t put out pumpkin past December first. But you might like our boysenberry. It’s award winning, you know.” She winked.
Naturally, Paisley didn’t know about what awards the little establishment with the blue-and-white-striped awning did or didn’t win. “Boysenberry. Sure.” She smiled and watched the waitress shimmy back behind the counter, slap the order down, and set about whipping up the cocoa. The two men at the counter heckled her mildly, and the waitress heckled them back.
Another couple, sitting squarely in the middle of the place, shared a cinnamon bun and joined in the small-town banter here and there.
Was this small-town life?
Paisley ought to know. She was from one, after all. But it had been too long, and her life had gone too off the rails. Or rather, perhaps her life had been too firmly locked into the rails. There was an air of comfort and hominess in that little café that Paisley had never even known in her own home. At least, not with Aunt Rita. Perhaps it would’ve been different with her parents. Maybe there’d have been Sunday baking and weeknight popcorn and all the things that a quiet, happy, small-town life could offer. Maybe that’s where Paisley had learned that she had a preference for those things.
She just couldn’t quite remember.
Letting out a sigh, she stretched her neck and scanned the sidewalk (boardwalk?) once again. Still no sign. Glancing at her phone, she noticed there was no new message, and it had been at least twenty minutes since BeachBum said he’d meet her in fifteen.
The waitress returned with her drink and treat and, with a glimmer in her eye, asked if Paisley might like to order anything else.
Yet again, Paisley glanced outside.
Nothing.
She smiled and shook her head. “This is fine,” she answered, her voice cracking on the last word.
At first, it seemed the woman missed it—that high, broken note that might signal distress. Sorrow. Crushing disappointment which was largely unreasonable since Paisley didn’t even know this BeachBum character.
But then the woman returned. “You know, it’s a rite of passage, really.” She slid into the booth, her short brown hair swishing and her blue eyes crinkling at the edges.
“Rite of passage?” Paisley worried she was about to find herself on the wrong end of relationship advice. She o
wned a matchmaking business. She didn’t need to know all about some woman from Indigo Bay and how she only found her true womanhood once she was stood up some twenty-odd years ago. Or more…
“Eating at Sweet Caroline’s.” She grinned and propped her elbows on the table. Glittery red nails gave way to scant jewelry, save for one silver ring. She looked less like a small-town waitress and more like a fairy godmother with every passing moment.
Paisley closed her eyes briefly and dropped her chin to her chest. “Oh.”
“New to town? Or just passing through?”
Paisley sighed. “Neither. Well, just passing through, I suppose. I was supposed to meet someone here. Our first date, you know.”
“A first date on Christmas Eve?”
“You think that’s the problem?” Paisley squinted at the woman who lifted her shoulders.
“Maybe. Is he a local? Because if so, I’m happy to hang him by his toes and whip him with a wet noodle for you.”
Paisley laughed. “That’s okay.”
“I have lots of noodles back there.” She threw her head toward the kitchen.
“He’s not from here. I don’t think. Charleston, actually. Like me. I came to town to spend the holiday with my… my friend. And colleague. Shelby—”
“Calhoun?” the woman cut in. “Of course I know the Calhouns. Betsy was a friend from high school. Her girls are sweethearts, and her boys are good men, too.”
“You know Shelby’s brothers, then?”
“Fort Knox and Fort Bragg, you mean?”
Paisley frowned. “Wait a minute—is that what they’re…?”
The woman nodded seriously. “Sometimes I think Bridger lost it after the war. With all his injuries and the brain thing, but then I remember he had those babies well before he was shipped overseas.”
“Mr. Calhoun, he’s not well?” Paisley didn’t mean to pry, but she was intrigued by Shelby’s big, boisterous family and all its contradictions. Kindhearted but high-heeled Betsy. Family-centered but severe Bridger. And the handsome oldest son who Shelby claimed was little more than a Peter Pan type, refusing to grow up.
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