“Don’t take too long to figure it out,” Santa said. “Twelve days will be over before you know it.”
The Twelve Days of Christmas didn’t start until the twenty-fifth. Santa must have drunk too much reindeer juice during his break.
Bill picked up Liam, who waved at Santa. “Let’s pay for your pictures, then see if your mommy found a dress.”
At the photo counter, Bill glanced back at the workshop. Sure enough, Santa was watching them. The guy was taking his job too seriously if he thought Bill needed Santa’s one-size-fits-all advice. Time to get out of there.
Liam held on to Bill. “Santa bring me what I want.”
“What is that?”
“Not telling.”
Grace stood ten feet away. She held a shopping bag in one hand and waved with the other.
Bill’s heart thudded. Her smile drew him toward her like a bear to honey. She was just as sweet. Too bad he couldn’t have another taste.
“How did it go?” she asked.
He handed her the white envelope containing the photographs and a CD with digital copies. “Great, except for Dr. Santa wanting to give life advice.”
Grace made a face. “What?”
“Nothing.” The old guy’s words played over and over in Bill’s head. Time to turn down the volume. “Let me guess. You found a dress.”
“And shoes.” Grace’s face glowed. “Shopping was a real treat thanks to you.”
Her words sent a burst of confidence through him. Maybe he could convince her to give him a chance.
“Treat. Treat,” Liam chanted.
Grace laughed.
The bubbly sound seeped into Bill, making him feel toasty warm and a little buzzed, as if he’d downed a hot chocolate laced with a shot of peppermint schnapps. He liked the feeling. He liked how they felt like a family. “Let’s hit the food court. I’m buying.”
Grace touched his shoulder for a nanosecond. “You paid for the Santa pictures. I’m buying.”
“S-sure.” He normally would have fought a little harder, except he wanted to know why the imprint of her palm burned his shoulder.
Maybe that whacked-out Santa was onto something.
Because there might be something Bill wanted for Christmas, after all—Grace.
* * *
“You look beau-ti-ful, Mommy.” Liam sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re green like a Christmas tree.”
She hugged her son, getting a whiff of sugar and dirt even though snow covered the ground. Must be a boy thing, or he’d been playing in Bill’s gear room. “Thank you. The color of the dress reminded me of Christmas.”
“I like green. But blue is my favorite color.” Liam hugged his stuffed elephant. “Peanut’s, too.”
“Do you want to take Peanut with you tonight?”
Liam nodded. “Bill said I could.”
Bill. Grace smoothed the dress, hoping he liked it. Not that his opinion mattered. Well, maybe a little.
Which was ridiculous.
This wasn’t a date.
They were friends. Nothing more.
“Are you going to wear your tags?” Liam asked.
Damon’s dog tags. She kept them with her wedding band and Gold Star pin. “No, I don’t think they’d go with my dress.”
Grace had been wearing them less and less over the past few months. She hadn’t put them on once since arriving in Hood Hamlet. But she had a feeling Damon didn’t mind.
As long as she was happy and safe.
She’d felt that way here until Bill’s rescue mission. Now she was counting the hours, waiting for the day after Christmas to arrive so she could leave. The longer she stayed, the less safe she felt.
A knock sounded. “Ready?”
Liam jumped off the bed and opened the door. “Look at my pretty mommy.”
Bill’s appreciative gaze ran the length of her. “Very pretty.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Thanks. You look...incredible.”
Smokin’ hot was a better term.
She’d never been swayed by a guy all dressed up and looking fancy. But in the black tuxedo and bow tie, Bill Paulson was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.
He tugged on his collar. “I don’t know why anyone would choose to wear a monkey suit.”
“To look suave and debonair,” she said. “If the British need another MI-6 agent, you’d be the perfect man for the job.”
Bill rolled his shoulders. “I feel like a penguin.”
Liam giggled. “I like penguins.”
Bill waddled around the room with his arms pressed against his sides.
Grace shook her head. “When someone gives you a compliment, you’re supposed to say thank you.”
He stopped moving. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Bill not only looked like the next superspy, but he could be a groom. He was only missing his...bride.
She swallowed. Hard. “Are you a member of the wedding party?”
He adjusted his bow tie. “Groomsman and usher.”
The way he fidgeted was cute. She would never have expected him to be so flustered getting dressed up. “Big wedding party?”
“Not too big. Christian’s cousin Owen is the best man. His brother-in-law, Jeff, is a groomsman, along with me. Cocoa Marsh Billings is the matron of honor. She used to be Leanne’s roommate. Christian’s sister, Brianna, and Hannah Willingham are the bridesmaids. Hannah’s three kids—Kendall, Austin and Tyler—are the flower girl and ring bearers. The fire chief is sitting in as father of the bride. He’s always had a soft spot for Leanne, though he’d deny it to his grave.”
The hearth-and-home aspect of Hood Hamlet was hard to ignore. “She told me she lost her family in a car accident, but found a family of friends in Hood Hamlet,” Grace murmured.
“A few of us have.” Bill’s gaze lingered on her. “Your hair looks elegant.”
“Thanks.” She’d found a few accessories and bobby pins while searching through her boxes, enough to do her hair in a French twist. “I wasn’t sure how to wear it when I couldn’t find my flat iron. I’m sure it’s in one of the boxes in the garage.”
“The up-do looks good.”
“I’m impressed you know what an up-do is.”
“My best friend is getting married tonight. We are the only single ones left. That means I’ve been hearing about wedding and bride stuff for fifty-one weeks. That includes watching wedding shows.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t freaked out.”
“Thomas provided lots of beer and food.”
“That made all the difference.”
“It wasn’t my wedding, so I was good.”
Of course he was. Bill was a confirmed bachelor. A player.
His words should make Grace feel better about not wanting to get involved temporarily. Instead she felt worse.
She looked at her shoes, a pair of sparkly, strappy heels. A total splurge. Impractical for the weather. A Christmas present to herself. She doubted women in Hood Hamlet would be wearing snow boots to the wedding, no matter the conditions.
“Nice shoes,” Bill said.
She glanced up.
Mischief gleamed in his eyes. “I’m going to have to hold on to you tight so you don’t slip on the sidewalk.”
Liam nodded with a wise-beyond-his-years expression. “Bill never let me fall. You be fine, Mommy.”
“That’s right.” Bill touched her son’s narrow shoulder. “I’ll take very good care of your mommy.”
Uh-oh. Grace’s tummy tingled with anticipation. The opposite reaction she should be having. Maybe she should have said no to the shoes and worn a pair of safe, bulky snow boots instead.
* * *
Leaving the v
estibule and entering the church, Bill sneaked another peek at Grace. She looked stunning in the green, long-sleeved lace dress, which clung to her curves and fell almost to her knees.
Classy, elegant, sexy.
The hint of creamy skin through the lacy arms was hotter than any low neckline he’d ever seen. The slit up the back gave tantalizing glimpses of toned thighs. Much better than short hemlines that left almost nothing to the imagination.
With her hair up and light makeup on her face, he couldn’t stop looking at her. Then again, his gaze strayed her way when she was wearing sweats and no makeup, too. She’d burrowed her way under his skin.
And he might not be the only one who felt that way.
He noticed men seated in the rough-hewn log pews glancing back, taking second and third looks at Grace. Thad craned his neck so badly he was going to hurt himself.
Protective instincts flared.
Bill placed his hand at the small of her back, possessively, as close to claiming Grace as his date as he dared. No one needed to know they’d come as friends.
Friends.
The word tasted sour, as if he’d gargled with vinegar to ward off a sore throat. But what could he do? Having Grace at the wedding, as his friend, was better than her sitting alone at home. Even if he might wind up playing bodyguard once the reception began.
Grace took a wedding program from a white basket. She glanced around, a look of awe on her face. “I love this church. Rustic yet lovely.”
Trees with Christmas lights, poinsettias, roses and candles decorated the altar area. At the end of each pew hung boughs of pine and sprigs of holly tied together by red ribbons. Christian’s grandfather was generously paying for the wedding reception. He’d suggested Timberline Lodge, but the community center held special meaning for Leanne and Christian and was their first choice of venues.
Bill and Grace reached the aisle. He extended his arm. “Bride or groom?”
“Bride.”
He imagined Grace as the bride, wearing a flowing white wedding gown and a veil on her head, and holding flowers in her hands. She would walk down the carpeted aisle, like now, except he wouldn’t be at her side escorting her. He would be standing at the front of the church by the altar, waiting for her to come to him.
What the...
Okay, he liked spending time with Grace and Liam. Hanging with the two of them was the closest thing to family time Bill had. But he sure as hell wasn’t ready to have his own family.
No way.
Baby steps.
That meant dating.
The same woman.
More than once or twice.
Not flying off a cliff hoping the landing would be cushioned by powder.
He might not want to be like his dad, but he wasn’t going to do anything stupid, either.
Especially not with Grace.
Not with Liam’s white Christmas on the line.
Bill was not going to screw this up.
CHAPTER TWELVE
GRACE DIDN’T KNOW if Hood Hamlet’s legendary Christmas magic existed, but something—maybe a smattering of holiday pixie dust—had turned the community center into an enchanted, romantic winter wedding land.
Votive candles surrounded the elegant red rose and pine centerpieces on white linen covered round tables. She sat at a table, the last person remaining after dinner and cake, caught up in the emotions of the surprising day.
Bill approached the table carrying two glasses of champagne. He gave her one.
Hood Hamlet’s finest first responders from the sheriff’s office, fire and rescue and OMSAR were in attendance. But not even the handsome bridegroom could hold a candle to Bill. Looking at him made her tummy tingle.
He sat next to her. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Immensely.” She glanced around the room. Bright lights twinkled through white tulle gathered with holly and red ribbon. Star-shaped bulbs illuminated Christmas trees decorated with red hearts and white doves. The favors she’d wrapped were piled under the branches of two trees. Wedding presents surrounded the other trees. “The ceremony was touching. The reception is beautiful. Leanne and Christian are so in love.”
“You like weddings.”
“I haven’t been to that many, but it must be wonderful to have so many family members and friends here to share their day.”
The DJ invited the bride and groom to the wooden dance floor. A romantic ballad played. A spotlight shone on the happy couple.
Christian and Leanne danced, her white gown swishing with every movement. The groom twirled his bride under a sprig of mistletoe, lowered her into a dip and kissed her.
Applause erupted.
Grace sighed.
Bill raised his glass to the beautiful couple. “A special day indeed.”
“I’ve never had second thoughts about eloping.” Grace stared at the newlyweds twirling around the dance floor. “But experiencing the community and love surrounding Leanne and Christian today is pretty awesome.”
The DJ spun another tune. Couples poured onto the dance floor.
Carly and Jake Porter. Zoe and Sean Hughes. Rita and Tim Moreno. Cocoa and Rex Billings. Sarah and Cullen Gray. Hannah and Garrett Willingham. Others joined in. She couldn’t keep the names straight, but the smiling couples looked so in love.
Maybe something was in the water or the fresh mountain air.
Grace sipped champagne, trying to keep her gaze from straying to Bill.
The song ended.
“I want all the single ladies out on the dance floor,” the DJ, wearing a red sparkly vest and matching bow tie, announced into the microphone.
Bill placed his arm on the back of her chair. “Aren’t you going up there?”
She shrugged. “I’d rather let someone who wants the bouquet to catch it.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
Leanne made her way through the crowd to Grace. “You need to get out there.”
“The bride has spoken,” Bill murmured under his breath.
“I’ve only begun, Paulson.” Leanne’s gaze challenged his. “You’d better be out there to catch the garter or you’ll pay.”
The two were like brother and sister. Even bickering, their love shone through.
Leanne pulled Grace onto the dance floor. “We have one more single lady.”
“No holdouts allowed,” the DJ said. “It’s tradition.”
Kendall, a young girl around thirteen or so, and a junior bridesmaid, rubbed her hands together. Her eyes twinkled. “I love traditions. Everyone in Hood Hamlet does.”
Grace didn’t know what to say.
Leanne stood on the DJ’s platform with Christian at her side. She turned her back to the crowd.
No big deal. All Grace had to do was stand here and smile, and pretend this wasn’t the last place she wanted to be.
The DJ raised his microphone. “On the count of three. One.”
Women around her raised their hands in preparation.
Grace pressed hers to her sides.
“Two.” The guests joined in the countdown. “Three.”
Leanne swung her arm over her head, whipping the bouquet into flight.
The flowers flew through the air.
A woman in a silky purple dress jumped. Her fingertips missed the handle by inches.
Kendall rushed forward. She overshot the distance. The bouquet soared past her.
Right toward Grace. Her heart sank. She raised her hands to protect her face.
The bouquet hit them, dead center.
Darn. Grace gripped the handle.
Leanne beamed like a blushing bride should on her wedding day. She motioned for Grace to join her on the platform.
Grace forced he
rself to move, her steps dragging. Her feet felt heavy, as if she were wearing weighted moon boots that kept astronauts from floating off into space. That didn’t sound like such a bad fate.
Guests watched her. Bill had to be watching, too.
The DJ gave her the once-over, then a nod of approval as if she’d passed his is-she-attractive-enough test.
Heat rose up her chest toward her neck. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been the center of attention in a crowd this big. Not since high school when, as the second in her senior class, she’d given the salutatorian speech at graduation.
The last time her parents had been proud of her.
The sweet scent of the roses tickled Grace’s nose, bringing her back to the present. She clutched the bouquet like a life preserver, as if a plastic handle and a few flowers could save her from this fate. Nerves threatened to overwhelm her.
“Now let’s get all the single guys up here, so we can see what lucky gentleman catches the garter.”
Men replaced the single women on the dance floor, including Thad and Owen. Grace caught a glimpse of familiar brown hair.
Bill.
His gaze met hers. He smiled, an understanding I-know-you-hate-this-but-hang-in-there-it’ll-be-over-soon smile.
Her heart stuttered. Her knees went weak.
Holding these lovely flowers, knowing what a wedding in Hood Hamlet could be like, she imagined him standing at the altar waiting for her to walk down the aisle, slipping a ring onto her finger, kissing her after being pronounced man and wife.
Heaven help her. She was falling for him. Falling hard.
She swallowed around the diamond-engagement-ring-size lump in her throat.
She may have already fallen.
Striptease music pulsed while Christian playfully removed a lacy blue garter from Leanne’s thigh. The groom turned his back to the guests.
The semicircle of single men stood waiting.
“Remember, it’s only slightly contagious, guys,” Dr. Cullen Gray said, his arm draped around his wife, Sarah, a volcanologist on Mount Baker.
Sean Hughes held Zoe in front of him, his hands on her bulging stomach. He laughed. “But once you’re infected, there is no cure.”
A Little Bit of Holiday Magic Page 17
