Pining For You: Jasper Falls

by Lydia Michaels

  “Stay,” he repeated, voice dropping low. “We can call it a business meeting and you can update me on how you’re settling in to your new position.”

  There was that charismatic mayor charm people couldn’t resist. “Fine.”

  They settled at the kitchen table rather than using the dining room. At first the conversation was hollow, punctuated mostly by Rhett’s animated response to her cooking. The man could get excited about a can of corn.

  “What were you eating before I started working for you?”

  “Nothing good. Way too much greasy fast food and a lot of dry sandwiches. One week and you’ve spoiled me. You’re an excellent cook.”

  “Hardly.”

  He paused and raised a brow.

  “I’m adequate,” she admitted modestly, thinking of her mother’s, aunts’ and Gran’s incredible skills.

  “Does praise make you uncomfortable?”

  His question did. She shrugged.

  When she didn’t verbalize and answer, he waited her out and the silence became stifling.

  Finally, she admitted, “I think it has to do with being one little part of a very big family. It humbles you or it ruins you. I’m not the bitter sort, so I go with the flow.”

  “Interesting.” He cleared his plate and filled it with seconds of everything. “So, you don’t like being the center of attention.”

  “I’m just not used to it.”

  He studied her, staring into her eyes until her gaze dropped to her plate. She’d only eaten a little bit. He made her nervous—not necessarily in a bad way, but in a way that made her lose interest in food.

  She didn’t want to miss anything he said and his interest kept her on her toes.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  Startled by his question, her skin heated, a blush burning to her chest. “Um, no. I’m single.”

  “How come?”

  She frowned at his unexpected curiosity and turned the question back on him. “How come you’re single?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. “I mean… I just assumed…Never mind.”

  He chuckled. “It’s fine. I am single.” He set his fork on the plate and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest in a contemplative pose. “Relationships are complicated. My focus is Addy. She’s my number one priority.”

  She nodded, respecting and understanding his excuse.

  “Now you.”

  Her chest tightened. “I, um…” What was her excuse? She considered the boys she knew from high school and the lack of chemistry. College wasn’t much better, because she was always rushing to class then off to work. “No one asked.”

  He scoffed. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re a beautiful woman.”

  Her cheeks caught fire.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It was just an observation.”

  Every muscle in her body tightened, but she somehow felt loose and flimsy and hot. A smile pulled at her lips, but she was afraid to give in to the emotions piping through her veins, afraid to come off over excited from one silly compliment. “Thank you.”

  His stare remained focused on her face. “Smile.”

  The urge to do so disappeared. Blinking at him in confusion, she wondered what this was. Was she putting herself in an inappropriate position? Was he being inappropriate? Was she reading too much into things? They were both adults.

  She stared at him in question, unsure if he was like this with everyone or if there was something happening here. Her lungs felt shallow and tight. “I don’t know how to read you.”

  “You’ll learn.”

  That felt…promising. She swallowed, and slowly forced her guard down. A shy smile curved her mouth and he mirrored the expression.

  “Beautiful. You shouldn’t hide your smile. It lights up the whole room.”

  Her cheeks stretched and she laughed. “You’re embarrassing me.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s the attention.” He chuckled, as if amused by her shyness.

  She used the sense of closeness to her advantage and asked, “Does Addison ever see her mom?”

  The energy of the room drastically shifted and chilled. He stood, catching her off guard.

  Collecting his plate and hers, he cleared the table. “The boys in this town must be nuts to have paid such little attention to you. Shame on them.”

  A divot formed in her brow as he obviously dodged her question and turned the focus back on her. She got the unmistakable impression that her boss didn’t like to share personal details of his past. She’d try to remember that.

  He turned on the faucet and proceeded to wash the dishes, leaving her there to process the abrupt change in him. He’d gone from acutely curious to completely disinterested and she regretted prying into his personal life.

  Yet, he took no issue with speaking about hers. She desperately wanted to know if he was simply making observations about her or if he was implying something more—saying something without saying anything at all.

  Maybe there was something wrong with her, because deep down she wanted it to be the latter.

  Was it wrong that part of her was eager to answer anything he might ask? She should be more guarded with her secrets but she wasn’t. She wanted to trade all of hers—not that she had many—for a measly few of his.

  His behavior made it clear that he had secrets and those secrets were off limits. Of course, that caused her to covet them even more.

  10

  Skylar spent the weekend hauling boxes up to the third floor and settling into her room. She used an old card table Gran had loaned her to set up a work station in the corner of her bedroom and a mason jar to hold her pens and highlighters.

  She liked the sense of a fresh start and decorated the space with a minimalist’s touch, opting for open areas of sunlight over clutter and accents in white and beige. At the farmer’s market, Aunt Ashlynn gave her a small houseplant as a moving present, and Skylar set it on the built in seat by the big window in her bedroom.

  By Sunday, her laundry was done and she was fully unpacked and settled in. Rhett had some work to do, so he was gone most of the day. Skylar used Addison’s nap time to work on a paper for her winter course.

  When Addison woke from her nap, they had a snack and practiced her letters. They had finally settled into somewhat of a routine, and Addison was showing great affection for learning.

  In the mornings they did a craft, usually one with a holiday theme. Then they practiced counting. They read a story in the afternoon, practiced her reading throughout the day, and usually went on an outing in town to get Addison out of the house. In the evenings they cooked together.

  There was always something exciting happening, but Addison’s favorite part of the day was the moment her father came home. Skylar also looked forward to that part of the day and sometimes caught herself watching the clock or catching her breath when the sound of a car pulled into the driveway.

  She didn’t overthink it and tried not to feed into her feelings too much.

  Rhett was a handsome man. Of course, she noticed him. And he was kind and charming in a way she’d never experienced before. He was unique.

  Did she have a crush on him? Yes, maybe a little. Did that mean she was going to act on her attraction? No.

  Her job was to care for and educate Addison, so when her feelings for her boss became especially distracting, she pushed herself deeper into her work.

  Skylar started labeling items around the house, using a red marker for the first letter of each word. Addison was learning that S was for sink and T was for television. Rhett was impressed with how quickly his daughter could acquire knowledge.

  Sunday evening, Skylar made pasta with Italian Mary’s special meat sauce. Rhett came home at six-twenty. Each day it seemed a little earlier.

  She enjoyed cooking for him because he ate with such curiosity and enthusia
sm. Addison loved telling him about her day during dinner. In a way, Skylar felt like an intruder, but Rhett insisted she eat with them every night—unless she had other plans.

  She didn’t know what it meant that she’d purposely cooked dinner on a Sunday, when every Sunday of her twenty-one years had been spent eating dinner with her family at the big house. Deep down, she assumed it spoke volumes about her being exactly where she wanted to be. But there would be hell to pay for missing a Sunday dinner at Gran’s. Not to mention that she also missed church to avoid any preemptive lecture about skipping dinner.

  “I saw Santa’s reindeer!” Addison announced before slurping a large bit of spaghetti through her lips. As the noodles disappeared with a slither of red sauce leaving her mouth a mess, she scooted higher in her seat. Italian Mary’s gravy was obviously a hit.

  “Where was this?” Rhett asked, maneuvering his pasta with a much more refined twirl against his spoon.

  “Up on a gigantic mountain, Daddy! ‘Member? I told you! There was a barn, and we saw three reindeer. We made a gingerbread house that was as tall as me, and Miss Maureen said I can come back any time. I made lots of friends.”

  He glanced at Skylar and grinned. “Your relatives?”

  “The McCullough side.” It was sort of a joke around Jasper Falls that there were more McCulloughs than all the other townsfolk combined.

  “Ah, well, it sounds like you two had a fantastic week.”

  “Why don’t we have a Christmas tree?” Addison asked, abruptly shifting gears.

  Rhett made an expression Skylar couldn’t read, which wasn’t anything new. But something protective came over her, and she wanted to save him from whatever put that look on his face.

  “My Gran showed Addison our family’s ornaments. She was a bit enchanted by them.”

  His brow kinked. “We have the one out front.”

  “That’s not the same, Daddy. We need one inside, so Santa can put the presents under it.”

  “Santa puts the gifts by the hearth.”

  Addison’s stern expression made Skylar chuckle. It became perfectly clear this was no longer acceptable in her book.

  “Well, I guess we need a tree.” He glanced at Skylar. “I’m holding you responsible for this.”

  “Me?” She laughed. “She got here on her own.”

  “Oh, please.” He eyed the red and green paper-chain garland they made earlier that week and the paper snowflakes hanging from the chandelier over the table. “Every day this place looks more like Santa’s workshop. I’m convinced I’m not your only boss, and you’re working personally for the big guy.”

  Addison’s eyes widened. “Do you work for Santa, too?”

  “No.” She shook her head at Rhett. “Your daddy’s starting rumors.”

  “What’s a rumor?”

  “A fib, sort of like when people call your daddy a grinch.”

  She gasped. “My daddy’s not the grinch!”

  “Ouch,” Rhett laughed. “Okay, maybe I have some work to do.”

  After dinner, they bundled up and drove down to the tree lot in the O’Malley’s pub parking lot. Classic rock filled the SUV and Skylar frowned.

  “You’re doing this all wrong.” With a twist of the dial, she set the station to Christmas carols. Addison bounced and sang in her seat. So did Skylar. She wondered how it was possible for a man Rhett’s age not to know the words. Maybe he just didn’t like to sing.

  Tree hunting was one of Skylar’s favorite pastimes. The scent of pine needles and the strung lights overhead… It was all so very Charlie Brown.

  Rhett had no idea how to go about getting a tree. His questions confused her.

  “How do they stay upright?”

  “You get a stand. Haven’t you ever had a Christmas tree before?”

  “No.”

  She stared at him completely perplexed. They celebrated Christmas, so she didn’t think it was a religious thing. Before she could ask why he never had a tree, Addison ran over to a bulky Douglas fir and declared it their tree.

  “Ooh, I like this one!” She returned to Rhett’s side and dragged him closer to the tree. “Sniff it, Daddy!”

  “Why?”

  Addison frowned. “You gotta.”

  Skylar walked over to the fir. “Because it smells like Christmas, silly.” She stuck her face close to the pine needles, shut her eyes, and breathed in the magical fragrance.

  Ah, Christmas…

  Rhett didn’t appear convinced, but his daughter’s insistence got him there. Skylar helped by giving the back of his head a little nudge.

  “Really get your face in there. Grab a lungful.”

  He looked at her like she was crazy. “A lungful of what?”

  “Just do it,” Addison snapped.

  He shut his eyes and breathed deep. Then he looked at them. “Now what?”

  Skylar shook her head. “Grinch.”

  Addison also shook her head. “Yeah, Daddy. Can’t you smell it?”

  “What? It’s a tree!” He held out his hands, but she and Addison left to go find an attendant to string up the branches and tie their Douglas fir to the roof of the SUV.

  The tree was enormous, but they had the room for it in that big, empty house. Once they got it inside and centered on the new tree stand, Rhett inspected it like one might scrutinize a monolith. Addison had gone upstairs to change into her pajamas.

  “This is a good one, Skylar?”

  “Sure. It’s definitely a big one.”

  “Big’s good, right?”

  Such a masculine assumption. He was adorable. “In my family, you either go big or go home.”

  He nodded with agreement, appearing pleased. “Big is good.”

  “Do you have ornaments?” When he gave her a panicked stare, she asked, “Lights?”

  “Crap.”

  He really never had a Christmas tree before. “McGinty’s is still open.”

  Addison returned to the den in her pajamas. “Get your coat. We’re going back out.”

  “But I’m in my jammies.”

  “Just put your snow boots on. No one will notice.”

  Bundled back up, they drove to McGinty’s. Rhett went a little overboard, buying every possible Christmas decoration he found. He even bought a mixer, since they didn’t have one at the house. The SUV was packed to the gills, and Skylar was a little sick over what he must have paid at the register.

  “You’re a little extreme,” she said, as they carried in the bags and formed a mountain of packages in the foyer.

  Rhett shrugged. “It’s for Addy. I want her to have all the perfect memories kids should have.”

  She studied him as he examined the instructions for an inflatable lawn snowman. “I don’t know if perfect is how I’d describe holiday memories.”

  “No?”

  She shook her head. “Chaotic seems more fitting.”

  His smile was slow as he turned to look at her. “Maybe chaotic is the perfect way it should be. Maybe that’s normal.”

  He used the word normal as if he didn’t fit the category. Her family was absolutely abnormal, but in a way that made them extremely regular in a very dysfunctional yet normal way.

  “How would you describe your Christmases?”

  “Empty.” He opened a box of lights.

  Something pinched in her chest and she took a step closer to him. The strangest urge to hug him took hold of her, but she forced her arms to stay planted at her sides.

  She looked directly into his eyes. “Did your family—”

  “What do you say we string these in the front hedges?” Once again, he’d purposefully dodged any questions about his past.

  “Yay!” Addison bounced off the floor and followed him out front, leaving Skylar standing in the foyer, unsure of the secrets her boss so obviously wanted to hide.

  His holidays were empty? The word empty seemed bursting with hidden meaning.

  Where had he lived before coming to Jasper Falls? And how did someone who
called his memories empty, bring so much charm to their little town?

  They left the ornaments in the foyer and spent the night decking the yard with blue spotlights, colorful twinkle lights, and tacky, inflatable decorations. Skylar didn’t dare broach the subject of his past again.

  By ten o’clock, Addison was cranky and ready for bed.

  “I’ll take her up,” she offered, and as she held her, Rhett kissed his daughter goodnight. The scent of his hair and skin filled her lungs, and she might have enjoyed breathing him in as much as she loved sniffing Christmas trees.

  Addison didn’t make it through two pages of a story. When Skylar returned downstairs, Rhett had organized the ornaments by type and color.

  “I guess we’ll do this part tomorrow night.” He glanced at her. “You’ll help, right?”

  “Sure.” She hovered by the arm of the couch, content to simply watch him. Painfully curious about who he was and what made him tick.

  As if he could feel her observing him, he stopped arranging the boxes and self-consciously gripped the back of his neck. “Thanks for coming with us tonight.”

  “No problem.” She gathered up the trash and walked it to the kitchen to throw away. Rhett followed.

  “You’re really wonderful with this stuff.”

  She put on a kettle of water and unpacked a box of chamomile tea. “Thanks. I love Christmas.”

  “It shows.”

  She studied him for a moment, setting the water to boil. Feeling courageous, she returned to their earlier conversation. “Earlier, when you said your Christmas memories were empty, what did you mean by that?”

  He took the box of tea and read the label. “Nothing.”

  It was clear he didn’t want to answer, so she took pity on him and let it go. “Do you want some tea?”

  He put down the box. “Sure.”

  She took two mugs down from the cabinet and waited for the kettle to whistle. It was taking forever.

  Rhett opened the cupboard and set honey next to the mugs. “You take it with honey, right?”

  He’d noticed how she took her tea at night? For some reason this information made her stupidly giddy. She hid a smile. “Right.” Her heart raced as she once again remembered him telling her not to hide her smiles because they could light up a room.