by J. L. Jarvis
Is this guy deliberately trying to piss me off, or does he just have a gift? “No, because I haven’t asked her.”
“Hey, sorry. I guess I touched a raw nerve. You have feelings for her. Got it.”
Bryce was way too sure of himself, so Marco refused to give him the satisfaction of being correct in his psychoanalysis. “My feelings for Lydia are… she’s like a sister. NO, more like a really close friend.” He leveled a serious look at Bryce. “Close enough that I would hate to see anyone hurt her.”
“Hey, don’t look at me. I’m one of the good guys. I say please and thank you and help old ladies cross the street. Do you need references?”
That made Marco laugh, which helped ease the tension, at least on the outside. “No. You seem harmless enough.”
“Hey!”
“Just kidding.” Not really. You’re freaking annoying.
Bryce grinned, pulled out his wallet, and tossed some bills onto the bar. “I’ve got to go. See you in class.”
“Yeah, later.” Lydia and Bryce? Nah, she’d never go out with him.
Allie pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to the Gallery with Lydia, still deep in thought about Marco. “So, Allie, what was all that about?”
“All what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think you do.”
Lydia launched into a theatrical reenactment of the moment in question. “Oh, Marco! Why don’t you take Lydia here into the deep woods for some quality time?”
Allie stifled a laugh. “I don’t think that’s quite what I said or how I said it.”
“Close enough.”
“Sorry. I just think you two are so cute together.”
Lydia nodded. “We are. We’re adorable—adorable friends, which is all we’ll ever be.”
Allie had that look on her face she got when she was thinking of rearranging the shop, which was fine for the shop but not so fine for Lydia’s life.
“I can’t be misreading the signals. You two have chemistry—maybe not on the surface, but there’s something there.” Her voice trailed off as she looked over at Lydia.
Lydia considered whether to confide in Allie. Although Allie was more of her mother’s friend—reason enough to exercise caution—she was Allie’s friend too. But Allie was also her boss. Lydia decided that some things were better left unspoken—like her feelings for Marco.
Allie shrugged. “Well, I still need some fresh greenery to finish the brewpub. And we’ll need votive candles and holders for the tables. Oh, and floral wire. I can get that when I pick up the mistletoe. We’ll hang that strategically throughout the bar.”
“I feel a sexual harassment lawsuit coming on.”
Allie raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean to tell me that if Marco cornered you under some mistletoe, you’d sue him?”
“No, I’d sue you. Oh, look! Here we are! Thanks for the ride. See you tomorrow.” Lydia hopped out of the car and rushed into her apartment, which was conveniently located next door to Allie’s shop.
Once inside her room, she let down her carefree demeanor and thought about the new situation Allie had created. She knew about Lydia’s feelings. That much was clear. How she knew was a mystery to Lydia, but she could think of no other explanation for Allie’s sudden interest in playing matchmaker for them. She’d picked up on the chemistry, which was a polite way of describing Lydia’s starry-eyed gaze fixed on Marco whenever she was near him. She was no Madame Curie, but chemical reactions didn’t work just one way. That was what she had with Marco.
Allie knew her too well. What she didn’t know was that for months, Lydia had been trying to let go of those feelings, but her heart wouldn’t obey. She was trying so hard to get over Marco, then Allie had to butt in. Allie meant well, but she had just thrown fuel on the fire.
A whole morning with Marco—it was torture, yet she looked forward to it.
Three
Marco parked his SUV at the end of a private road at the top of a hill. Lydia hopped out and met Marco at the back of the car.
As he opened the hatch, she said, “Are you sure it’s okay if we trespass all over the place, taking evergreen branches from somebody’s land?”
Marco smiled at her as if she were a child. “You worry too much.”
“About trespassing? Yes, because as much as I love Christmas, I’d rather not go to jail for traipsing around someone’s property and denuding the landscape.”
Marco turned to face her and put his hands on her shoulders. Her heart skipped a beat, but she pulled it together. We’re just friends. There is nothing between us. My heart is not pounding. Nor am I aware of the gentle pressure of his fingertips on my shoulders or the way he is gazing straight into my eyes without saying a word. For God’s sake, please stop. Do not part your lips.
Marco blinked. He was frowning, as though he’d just awoken from a horrible dream. She’d just had a dream, too, only hers wasn’t horrible.
He looked confused. “Sorry, I just…”
Had a nightmare? It was about me, wasn’t it? I know. I get it.
“I, uh, was going to say that we have permission to be here. Theo’s saving up for a down payment on this land. He’s friends with the owner, so we’re good.”
“That’s a relief. I had visions of an unkempt recluse emerging from a cabin—probably irate and possibly armed.”
Marco peered at her. “So you’re okay with a recluse who’s fastidiously kempt?”
“Yes, and I’d probably date him.”
Suppressing a grin, Marco said, “In that case, I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Thank you.” She reached for the sled in the back of the car.
“Leave it. We should be able to find what we need within a short walk from the car. If that doesn’t work out, we can come back for that later.”
“What’ll we use for the branches?”
He reached into the back and pulled out two enormous Ikea bags and gave one to her.
“That’ll work.” She turned toward the woods. “Which way?”
Marco pointed, and they were off on their evergreen adventure. As soon as they entered the woods, the smell of pine trees engulfed them.
Lydia took in a deep breath. “I thought Allie was nuts when she sent us out here, but it’s gorgeous up here and so quiet and peaceful.”
Marco’s eyes lit up as he looked up at the trees. “I love it here. Theo and I have talked about building two cabins. With about a dozen acres to work with, there’s plenty of room.”
“That sounds perfect.”
With a mischievous look in his eye, he said, “Perfect for what?”
Her mind took off on its own side trip as she thought about Marco living in his perfect little cabin in the woods, overlooking the ocean. All it was missing was her. And there she was again, back on her usual circuit in which her mind ran around a romance-laden track like a runner who didn’t know enough to stop. Of course, the only exercise she got was in futility. She desperately wanted to be free, which was why hiking with him was such a bad idea.
“Hello? Perfect for what?”
“What? Oh. Cabin building. You could be a recluse-in-training. While you’re at it, you could build a still, hide it from the revenuers, and supply the brewpub with your own moonshine in canning jars.” Her mind wandered to thoughts of Marco shirtless in overalls—typically not her favorite look for a man, but for Marco, she could make an exception.
“That’s an oddly thorough plan you’ve cooked up.”
“I’ve got an oddly thorough imagination.” That is so sadly true. With what must have looked like impressive enthusiasm, Lydia started gathering branches that had fallen in the last storm that blew through.
Marco took a more direct route by pulling out his band saw and cutting off some low-hanging branches. As if sensing her judgment, he said, “Don’t worry. A little pruning won’t hurt them.”
They settled into a quiet routine of gathering branches and filling the bags on their shoulders the
n carrying them back to the car. As they emptied their second load, Marco said, “One more trip ought to do it, don’t you think?”
Lydia thought for a moment. The last thing she wanted was to come up short and have to come back for more. If that happened, she would come back alone. “Yes, just one more bag each to be safe.”
They headed into the woods in a new direction. To keep her mind from straying to Marco, Lydia concentrated on the rhythm of their boots crunching over the shallow coating of snow on the ground. When they had nearly filled their bags, Lydia bent down to pick up the last few branches she needed while Marco sawed off a few branches nearby.
With her bag completely stuffed, Lydia turned and headed toward Marco. “Are we ready to—oof!” Her foot caught on a tree root, and she went flying. Falling was an odd process. The bag took flight on its own while she grasped at the air as if it had the power to reroute her flight. It did not. She landed on Marco with enough force to take him down with her. Stunned, they both lay on a blanket of snow for several moments.
“Are you okay?”
“Sorry.” Lydia scrambled off to the side, freeing Marco from the full weight of her body. She had almost forgotten a similar scene in her bedroom when he had climbed the tree outside her window to save her from herself, or so he’d thought at the time. Why does this keep happening? Am I so desperate that I subconsciously created opportunities for full-body contact? She couldn’t really blame her subconscious. “I tripped.”
“Yeah.” He looked at her as if she had just said the most obviously ridiculous thing, which she had. Then he burst into laughter, and she joined him.
When the laughter subsided, she asked, “Did I hurt you?”
“You could never hurt me.”
He’d meant it as a compliment. Lydia knew that. But it had another truth in it that caused a pang in her heart. She couldn’t hurt him because he didn’t feel enough for her to hurt. You are reading way too much into this.
Marco stood and held out his hand to pull her to her feet. “I think we’ve gathered enough for one day. I’ll just top off my bag on the way to the car.”
As they walked, Marco held on to her arm. “Just in case,” he assured her, grinning.
That was the part that she hated. He was just being her pal Marco. Why can’t that be enough?
The drive home was uneventful, unless one counted pining for the driver for a half dozen miles as eventful. He pulled into her driveway and parked.
“Thanks for the ride.”
For some reason that Lydia couldn’t quite pinpoint, Marco found that slightly amusing. But when he put the car in park and turned to her, the smile faded. Lydia had grown used to her tendency to blow every expression and gesture out of proportion where Marco was concerned, but that time, it was different. It was so slight that it was barely perceptible, but as he tilted his head, Lydia had the strangest sensation that he was seeing her differently. Whether that was a positive thing wasn’t clear.
“What?” Speaking would break whatever spell seemed to have fixed his gaze on her, but she couldn’t bear it any longer. That much uninterrupted attention was a powerful thing for a vulnerable heart to endure.
He smiled gently. “Bye, Lydia.”
“Bye.” She got out of his car and walked into her home, feeling as though something had changed. She didn’t know what it was. That fact scared her a little because it made her feel closer to Marco, and closeness to Marco meant heartache.
Four
Lydia walked out of class into the gray haze of an early-December sunset. It was her birthday. When Marco had picked her up that morning, her mother invited him for some birthday cake after class. It was such a mom thing to do. At first, Lydia was embarrassed, but the idea grew on her as the day progressed. By the last class, she’d begun daydreaming of celebrating her birthday with Marco along with her mother and Dylan.
Her feelings toward Marco were like a pendulum swinging from avoidance to yearning. That day was the latter. She was glad to be spending time with him for her birthday. They had been through so much together that she hated to think her unrequited feelings would eventually cost her their friendship. She could only bear so much. But for the moment, time with Marco was always well spent with great talks and laughter. His friendship was almost enough, so having him join her for her birthday meant a great deal to her.
As she headed down the sidewalk, she searched for his old black SUV in the parking lot. It wasn’t where he’d parked it in the morning, so she stood at the parking lot entrance and scanned the lot. Halfway down the first row of cars, she spotted his car. Smiling, she quickened her pace, but she stopped abruptly when a pretty young woman got out of the passenger side. Marco had a type—pretty, popular girls. They must have had other distinguishing features aside from their stunning good looks and starry-eyed gazes, though she’d never seen any. She wondered if he knew that women didn’t flock to other men the way they did him. After all, that was his normal. He had an innate magnetism that drew women to him. She’d never seen anything like it.
Marco bounded around the car and arrived at the passenger side, where he leaned on the car roof as though he were sheltering the woman. Lydia could almost imagine what it would feel like to be sheltered like that. In the dusk, she couldn’t make out their expressions, but the way she stood and leaned into him and the way Marco looked down at her appeared intimate enough to make Lydia uneasy about watching. Then he kissed her. Lydia started to turn. She could walk away and come back a few minutes later when the kissing was—she could only hope—over.
Marco glanced up with no warning. “Lydia!” The woman turned and eyed Lydia from top to bottom.
“Lydia, this is Wendy.”
Wendy, Wendy, Wendy. This time, I’ll remember her name.
“Hi. Good to meet you.” Lydia smiled pleasantly. She’d had plenty of practice.
Wendy squeezed his hand and left, which finally cleared the way for Lydia to get into the car and stare out the window. She hated herself for feeling what she was feeling. It had a name, but Lydia was determined to ignore it so that she wouldn’t have to face it head-on. If she admitted she was jealous, it would mean all those feelings she’d been trying to bury had been waiting right there on the surface.
Marco got into the car and backed out of the parking spot. “So, birthday girl, have you had a good day?”
“Oh yeah, great!” Until five minutes ago. “So, Heidi’s new.”
His eyes darted toward her. “You mean… Wendy?”
Allie nodded vigorously, as if she’d meant to say that all along. “Yes. Wendy. She’s nice.”
“And smart. She got into three Ivy League schools but couldn’t afford them, so she’s going here for two years, then she’s planning to transfer.”
“Oh, that is smart.” So, now can I hate her?
“Yeah. I’m lost in accounting, so Wendy’s tutoring me.”
With her tongue? “Oh, that’s nice.”
“We kind of got carried away.”
“Strayed from the generally accepted accounting principles, did you?” Come on, Lydia, acting snarky isn’t becoming.
“Yeah, she’s got that look in her eyes, and I don’t want to lose a good tutor.”
Lydia leaned back and sighed. “Yeah, I hate it when that happens.”
“You’re judging me, aren’t you?”
“No.” But yes, kind of. “What’s that look for?”
“It’s a response to your look.”
Lydia tried not to look defensive. “Which was?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Disapproval.”
“And your response?”
A moment passed. “I’m sorry.”
He’s serious. “What for?”
He gave her that soft, brown-eyed look that always, every single darned time, made her melt. Sometimes she wondered if he did it on purpose. “For disappointing you.”
“I wouldn’t say disappointed.” No, it’s more a matter of wishing I knew how to tutor accou
nting.
Marco stopped at a light, which was good because his unwavering gaze would have gotten them into a wreck. She had two choices—gaze back until she got “that look” in her own eyes or look away and put herself out of her misery.
An unexpected plan C threw itself into the mix. Lydia laughed. “You are so easy.” She pointed at him. “That’s your conscience doing the judging. Hey, eyes on the road. The light changed.” She grinned and mentally patted herself on the back.
He attempted a laugh, but his eyebrows wrinkled. “You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
“Tell you what?”
“If you were disappointed?”
Probably not. “Marco, relax. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
And to her knowledge, he hadn’t. Since she’d known him, Marco had done everything right. The guy drove her to and from school every day. Granted, he was going there too. But when things went wrong in her life, he was always there for her—as her friend.
Once home, they climbed the stairs to the apartment she shared with her mother and opened the door.
“Happy birthday!” Her mother, Eve, and her mother’s fiancé, Dylan, were there with a cake. Her mom was already lighting the candles.
It was nice. Lydia was lucky. She had people around her who loved her—or, in Marco’s case, liked her. A card from her father, whom she’d only just met, lay on the counter. That was a sore subject with Dylan, so she would save that for later. For the moment, it was her birthday celebration, and she was happy.
Lydia blew out the candles, and as they ate the cake, Marco gave her a gift card to her favorite coffee shop.
She laughed. “You know I’ll use this!”
His eyes sparkled. “I had an idea you might.” He stretched out his arms. “Happy birthday.”
They embraced. He was warm, and he felt really good—and her mother and Dylan were watching.
She pulled back a little abruptly. Oh, this feels so weird. Although I ought to be used to that feeling by now. “Thanks, Marco.” She lifted the card and looked into his eyes then quickly averted her eyes as she smiled. She could only imagine how that smile had looked, because it felt like a kindergartener’s portrait session—stunned, lips over teeth, and unnatural.
