Shelby had a point.
“But Charleston will have more options,” Paisley argued.
“Or fewer. It’s more likely that you’ll find a place in a small town—where people don’t normally think to celebrate.”
“I’m going to call about that warehouse.” Paisley scrawled Pebble Street Warehouse.
“I’m telling you, putting together a party in an empty warehouse—a mixer—it’ll fall on its face, Paisley. You have to set the ambiance, you know? And anyway, don’t we want a theme or something?”
Again, Shelby had a point.
“Like what?”
Shelby let out a sigh on the line. “Hmm. What about… Sweet Meet?”
“Sweet Meat? Like… meat? Like steak?”
Shelby broke out in laughter. “No! Like Meet-up. Obviously.”
“Okay, I’m still going to veto that.” Paisley added it to another fresh page anyway. Themes. “How about Countdown to Forever?”
“Mm,” Shelby replied, “That’s pretty high pressure. I mean, forever?”
“We are selling forever, you know,” Paisley pointed out.
Shelby answered, “Regardless, it sounds more like a rocket blasting off than a dating service. If we’re going to stick to Christmas, which I believe we should, then maybe we play off that and New Year’s. You know?”
“Maybe we should pick a location before we a pick theme. So, if not the warehouse, then where do we have a place that’s big enough to host a mixer? Big enough and already decked out?”
“I mean, my folks’ house on the beach is the only thing that comes to mind.”
Paisley frowned. “No way. Your dad with his heart. He needs rest, not a New Year’s Eve party.”
“True,” Shelby allowed. “But…”
“But what?” Paisley didn’t want to encourage Shelby to do anything that may be considered untoward. No point in making an enemy of her new friend’s parents, after all.
“I could ask Knox.”
“Your brother?” Paisley nearly choked on her hot cocoa.
Chapter 20—Knox
Knox settled into a kitchen chair at his parents’ house, determined to get a reply out of CarolinaGirl. He’d promised his mother and sisters he’d stick around as much as possible while things returned to normal. It was easier now, with no party-planning, no visitors, no hubbub or chaos. He almost enjoyed hanging there. And Hickory loved it, too. Free rein of the beach and deep neck rubs from Shelby.
The dust had settled after the heart attack and the failed Christmas party, and now Bridger was resting upstairs where Betsy tended to him like a baby. And Shelby was on the phone on the back deck, throwing a ball for Hickory. And if CarolinaGirl was ready to pick back up and hear him out, then life was good for Knox.
And it would be great if he could regain traction with CarolinaGirl.
But she didn’t respond to his first text.
Then he sent a second message. Then a third.
There was no logical reason Knox should be so preoccupied with a girl he’d never met. Especially since he wasn’t interested in dating anyway. All he had needed was a date for the party. The party was over, and there was no new party on the horizon, so did he need CarolinaGirl anymore?
No.
But then, after his fourth plea, she responded.
Don’t worry about it! Things happen. No need to explain. Have a good one.
He frowned.
Actually, I do want to explain…
She spent no time replying now, as he could tell from the rippling dots on the screen. He narrowed his eyes on those little dots. Ready for the challenge.
You seem like a nice enough guy, but I am looking for something serious. Hope you have a good week. Happy New Year.
Well, that settled it. He wasn’t looking for anything at all, and much less something serious.
Thanks. You too, he answered, punching each letter like a thumbtack. But he couldn’t shake his curiosity.
And then, he decided to go to Sweet Caroline’s. He could go for a slice of boysenberry pie with a side of small-town gossip.
“Just me,” he told Caroline, who never seemed to take a day off as she ushered him up to the counter and propped a menu in his hands.
He returned it. “I’ll take a slice of boysenberry and a coffee.”
“Coffee past noon?” she replied, her eyes crinkling. “Is this what teachers do on their days off or did you just get a late essay to grade?”
He chuckled politely. “Neither. Just… bored, I guess.”
“Oh, Knox. Haven’t you heard?” She set about filling him a mug.
Shaking his head, he accepted the steaming cup and drew it to his lips, blowing before taking a careful sip.
“Only boring people get bored. You’re not boring, are you?”
Grinning as he lowered his drink, he lifted an eyebrow at her. “Maybe that’s my problem.”
She plated him a slice of pie and slid it his way before working a rag across the counter. “I’m no barkeep, but we can pretend if that’s what you need.”
Knox considered this. There was a lot on his mind, that was true. But he’d come there for one reason and one reason alone, and Knox wasn’t the sort to beat around the bush. “Did you happen to work on Christmas Eve?”
“You mean here?” Caroline swept her free hand around.
“Yeah.”
“Sure did. I was shorthanded, and there’s no way Sweet Caroline’s doesn’t stay open on Christmas Eve.”
He was in luck. “Did a woman come in here? Alone? Sort of… strawberry-blonde hair? Around thirty?” As he talked about her, he realized he sounded like he knew CarolinaGirl. Like he’d seen her. But in his mind’s eye, he wasn’t conjuring some pretty stranger. He was conjuring Shelby’s beautiful friend, and he almost decided to leave right then and there. He sounded like a fool.
“Yes.” Caroline had stopped cleaning, and she stared at him beneath a burrowed brow. “Why?”
Knox’s stomach bounced up to his chest. “CarolinaGirl?”
“CarolinaGirl?” Caroline frowned. “Is that her name?”
“Sure, CarolinaGirl. It’s her—um, well… She was—well, I… I was supposed to meet her, you see.”
“But you didn’t come…” Caroline began.
“Because of my dad,” Knox answered for her.
Her eyes turned soft, and she slumped onto her elbows. “Oh, sweetheart. How is that ol’ Bridger, anyway?”
Knox didn’t want to get into it. “Fine. He’s fine. He’ll be fine, but I just wanted to know if she came here.”
“I didn’t get her name, but there was a girl here who got stood up. I just never would have guessed you’d have been on the other side of that.” A mischievous smile crossed Caroline’s face.
“I didn’t mean to stand her—”
Caroline raised a hand and waved him off. “No, no. I know you’d never stand a girl up. I just mean I didn’t realize you were in the market.” At that, she dipped her chin and winked at him, and Knox regretted ever coming. It wasn’t as if he could track CarolinaGirl down just because she’d turned up at Caroline’s.
“I’m not,” he answered. “And anyway, it’s no big deal. I was curious if she showed up here.”
“Let me guess…” Caroline returned to cleaning, as she wrung out a new rag and wiped down the condiments and menus. “She’s ignoring your calls.”
Knox scoffed. “If I had her phone number, you’d be right.”
Caroline lifted an eyebrow.
He gave in, swallowing another mouthful of pie. “She was ignoring my messages. Then she wrote back and bid me farewell.”
“Well, did you tell her your father had a heart attack? I mean, what human being on earth couldn’t understand that?”
He shook his head. “She didn’t give me a chance.”
“You mean you didn’t take the chance.”
“I didn’t have one.” He gave Caroline a hard look then drew another sip of coffee.
/> “I can’t believe one of your sisters hasn’t given you this advice.” She narrowed her gaze on him. “Or your mama.”
Knox knew inside that whatever advice Caroline had to give, his mother and sisters had probably tried to give him the exact same advice a million times over.
He just hadn’t been ready to hear it.
Maybe he was now.
“And what’s that, Miss Caroline?”
“If a man is interested, he’ll find a way.”
“How can I? I don’t know her last name. She lives in Charleston, for goodness sake. I mean, what? Do I trick her?” He could make a second profile on the dating app. He could be himself. Knox. Not BeachBum. He’d have to undo that anyway.
Caroline frowned. “Trick her? No, Knox. Are you really this dense?”
“Ouch,” he answered, putting on a wounded look.
“There are other ways than tricking a girl, you know. You’re not a teenager still, are you?”
“No.” He shook his head at his own stupidity. He never should have made a fake profile. He never should have scheduled a first date for Christmas Eve. He never should have done any of this.
“How did you two meet? You and this CarolinaGirl woman?”
“Meet?” Knox asked. “We haven’t met.”
Caroline’s eyes widened. “It was a blind date?”
He thought about the answer. “Yes. Technically…”
“Technically? Or…?”
“We met on a dating app.” As he confessed it, he slumped onto the counter, the remnants of his pie curled in his arm.
“A dating app. Oh, that’s nifty,” Caroline replied. “Those things really have taken off. Whatever happened to having your sister set you up? Or a good friend? Only sure way to know someone is to have a matchmaker. In my opinion.”
“That’s sort of the idea of the app. It’s Shelby’s app, you know. It’s the business she works for.”
Caroline’s eyes lit up. “Oh, my! You mean this is the Charleston matchmaking service? What’s it called…” Her eyes twirled in circles. “Mistletoe. I just love that. Your mama was in here telling me all about it. How the owner’s in a bit of hot water for being single herself, and how they don’t…” She stopped and looked at him. “They don’t use any photos on that app, do they? It’s a blind matchmaking thing. Isn’t it?”
He nodded miserably. “So, you met someone on your sister’s app, then your dad had his heart stop, and you missed your Christmas Eve date. Oh, Knox.” Caroline’s voice was pinched and pained like syrup trying to make its way out of a clogged nozzle.
“I don’t even know why I care so dang much,” he confessed, downing the rest of his coffee. “There are other fish in the sea, and anyway—who’s looking?” Knox stood and tugged his wallet from his pocket. “Not me.” He’d hate to leave having Caroline think he was a heartsick puppy. Knox never had been, wasn’t now, and never would be so interested in a woman—and in a woman he hadn’t met—that a rejection would ruin his entire Christmas break. He just needed to follow up. Make sure this CarolinaGirl gal was as wounded as she was acting. Otherwise, he’d have gotten permission to write her off entirely…
“Knox, you know.” Caroline covered his hand in hers as he laid a bill next to his plate.
He looked up at her, their eyes catching. He saw a little of his mother in Caroline. The softer parts. The sweet ones not hardened by Bridger’s edge. “Yes, ma’am?” he asked.
“If this CarolinaGirl person is using your sister’s app, it seems to me you could track her down. If you really wanted to.”
Chapter 21—Paisley
“He’s not here,” Shelby said into the phone. She had gone off to find Knox and ask if they could relocate Bridger to his house for the New Year’s Party that Shelby was now determined to host at her parents’ house after all.
“I don’t want to impose on them, Shelby,” Paisley pleaded.
Shelby huffed. “I’ll find my mama. She’ll tell me straight, and we’ll go from there. And that’s that.”
Not one minute later, Shelby was back on the line. “Mama says we can move Daddy to Knox’s house for the night. It’ll do them both some good. And she’s dying to have the party here. On one condition, though.”
Paisley steeled herself for a Betsy Calhoun prerequisite. “Okay…” she replied tentatively.
“She wants to decide the theme and name the event. Says it’s her dream come true to host something as magical as a Mistletoe matchmaking mixer.” Shelby’s voice was flat, and Paisley withheld a laugh.
“But, Shelby,” she argued, “What if it… what if she doesn’t come up with something… you know…”
“Good?” Shelby replied. “Hang on.” The phone line went muffled for another several moments.
Paisley drummed her fingers uselessly on the arm of her sofa, wondering how in the world a mixer would satisfy the investor’s ultimatum. Spoiler alert, it wouldn’t. At least, though, they could go out with a bang.
But what about Bridger? Shelby’s dad seemed particularly cantankerous. Would he agree to leave his house for a night? And Knox—would he allow it? What about Knox’s date—what if they had plans for New Year’s Eve. Surely, they did, and that could ruin everything.
“Okay, she already has an idea.” Shelby’s tone was lighter now. Hopeful, even?
“I’m ready for it.” Paisley grinned to herself.
“After the Mistletoe.”
Chapter 22—Knox
“Let me get this straight,” he said to his sister and mother as all three of them stood in the doorway of the beach house—they had ambushed him. “You want me to take Dad to my place for New Year’s Eve, so you two can host a mixer for Mistletoe?”
His wheels turned.
“After the Mistletoe,” Betsy corrected.
“Mistletoe,” Shelby re-corrected. She threw a look to their mom. “Our app is Mistletoe. The party is called After the Mistletoe.”
“I thought of that,” Betsy added, her eyes glimmering with excitement. Knox had seen his mama excited plenty of times. It was her default emotion. But there was something extra running through her veins. A purpose. Something bigger.
He pressed his lips into a smile for her. “I like it.”
“Why, thank you, Knoxy.”
“Anyway,” Shelby pushed ahead. “It’s just one night. He’ll be on his meds. He’ll go to bed early. You won’t have to interact with him at all.”
“I don’t think so,” Knox answered, hesitant. He loved his dad. But they just didn’t get along well enough to spend a night together. And what if he found CarolinaGirl by then? If so, he’d want to take her out.
As if she were reading his mind, Shelby added, “You don’t have to stay there with him. He doesn’t need a babysitter.”
Still, Knox thought.
But then, Caroline’s point came back into his mind. He could mention it to Shelby. He could throw it out there. But with his mom now involved, that would make things messier than he could handle.
“Mama,” he said, those wheels still turning, “I’m dying for a sweet ice. Do we have any?”
Instantaneously distracted by the thought of her son going thirsty or hungry, Betsy’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, sweetheart, I can whip up some right now.” Then icicles danced in her eyes, and she cocked a hand on her waist. “Just as soon as you give us the greenlight to take Daddy to your place for New Year’s.”
“Okay, okay.” Knox held a palm up. “I’ll talk to Shelby about it.”
Betsy eyed him, then spun on her heel and strode off.
“Please, Knox.” Shelby immediately turned to her brother and gripped his shoulders. “The business needs this. Paisley needs this.”
He frowned. “Paisley?”
“My boss. My friend—”
“I know. I met her. I know who she is.”
“If we can’t drum up some business and if Paisley can’t—well… let’s just say, if this doesn’t go well, we’re in hotter water than
ever. Paisley, particularly.”
Confused by the implication, he swallowed. “I’ll take Dad to my house if you can do something for me in return.”
She eyed him. “And what’s that?”
He licked his lips and flicked a glance toward the kitchen. “Okay, just hear me out.”
“I’m listening.” Shelby crossed her arms and gave him a sidelong look.
“I joined your app.” It fell from Knox’s mouth. There was no delicate way to phrase such a crude-sounding thing. Crude sounding to him.
Shelby gasped. “You did?! You mean Mistletoe! Oh my gosh, Knox, you didn’t even tell me! Like, when? How?” Her wide-eyed expression fell, and a shadow of suspicion crossed her face. “Why?”
He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the last question, but he caught sight of his mother’s figure bobbing on the horizon behind Shelby. He gripped his sister’s elbow and led her out to the front deck.
A Nutcracker stood guard by the front door, and he pulled her past that and beyond a pair of miniature Christmas trees to the far edge of the deck. The day was gray, and a chill persisted. Shelby pulled her arms around herself. “Well?” she asked. “Spill everything.”
“I’m not… spilling everything,” he answered. “But here’s what happened. I made a temporary profile—”
“Knox!” Shelby gasped then frowned. “What do you mean temporary?”
He gave her a pointed look. “Temporary… as in a one-time deal. I can’t stick around on that thing. I’m a teacher. What if one of my students saw my name? Besides, I’m not even really looking—”
“You’re not ‘looking,’ but you made a dating profile?” She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips.
“Anyway, I met someone, and I—” As he started, words escaped him. How could Knox express to his sister—of all people—that he held a semi-serious interest in a stranger he met on a dating app? It felt improbable at best and dumb at worst. He rerouted. “We were supposed to get together on Christmas Eve, but then the thing with Dad and…” His eyes searched hers. “I need to apologize to her. Explain myself. That’s it. It’s nothing serious, it’s just—”
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