A Savannah Christmas Wish

by Nan Dixon

Nathan swore. For a few minutes, the screw gun was the only sound.

  “I’m sorry I’m defective, baby brother.” Nathan shoved the gun into Daniel’s belly. “I’ll hold for a while.”

  “I’ve already scored the pieces we need.”

  “Thank you, oh perfect one.” Nathan shot him the finger.

  Daniel slammed the gun down. Crossing the floor, he stepped in front of his brother. “Knock it off.”

  Nathan straightened. “What?”

  “Knock off calling me ‘perfect’ and ‘baby.’” He drilled a finger into Nathan’s chest. “Grow up.”

  “Stop acting all high and mighty.” Nathan knocked Daniel’s hand away.

  “Guys,” Bess called. “Guys!”

  Daniel held up his hands and took a step back. Nathan did the same.

  Her coppery eyebrows scrunched together. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” Nathan shuffled to the edge of the room and grabbed his water, glaring at Daniel.

  “Nothing,” Daniel echoed, moving to the opposite corner.

  Her gaze bounced between them.

  “Did Gray call?” she asked.

  Daniel nodded. “What do you need?”

  His tone was rude, but his emotions were back in high school. Back when Nathan picked fights with him all the time. And his parents relied on him to stay in control, because Nathan was only capable of chaos.

  He wanted to punch his brother. For once, Bess had stopped him from doing something crazy. His fingers eased out of their fists.

  “I’m giving Gray a bid on flower boxes for all the balconies. I need to take measurements.” She glanced again at Nathan and then him. “Can you let me into each condo?”

  “I’ll do it.” Nathan held out his hand. “Give me the master key.”

  “I’ll take you through,” Daniel snapped.

  Nathan tossed him a dirty look. “Whatever.”

  Yup. When they were together, he and Nathan reverted to their high school selves. He sent Quint a text asking him to come work with Nathan.

  “What was that about?” Bess asked as they headed down the hallway.

  He pushed his hair back and stuck his cap on. “Nothing.”

  “Right.” She shook her head. “If I hadn’t come in, you might have hit each other. He’s your brother.”

  He held open the stairway door. She slipped past him. Her earthy floral scent filled the small space. Her smell was—calming. Not something he usually experienced with Bess. “My brother and I aren’t like you and your sisters.”

  Her green gaze drilled into him. “With everything going on in your family, maybe you should try and get along. Family is forever.”

  He released a deep breath. Forever sounded like purgatory.

  And Daniel thought they’d been getting along. But Nathan just couldn’t resist pushing his buttons. “Getting along is not going to happen.”

  * * *

  BESS WALKED OUT of the final apartment. She’d taken her time getting the measurements, trying to keep the brothers apart. Hopefully, their tempers had cooled in the hour she’d spent with Daniel.

  She opened the third-floor door. The snap of the fire-exit bar echoed through the building’s atrium. Grabbing the curved brass and wrought-iron railing that circled the floor, she asked, “What are the plans for in here?”

  “None that I know of,” Daniel said.

  “What do you think of flower baskets in here, too?” Bess caressed the railing. “And seasonal decorations.”

  He shrugged. “Gray hasn’t said anything.”

  “He’ll be talking about it now.” She pulled out her measuring tape. “And so will the people who live here.”

  Daniel messed with his phone. He’d done that the entire time he had shown her around the space.

  “I could hang pots off the top of the railing.” She tapped her lip. “Or bolt them to the overhang.”

  Daniel knelt next to her. He measured the depth of the overhanging floor. “What kind of clamp would you use?”

  She scrolled through the pictures she’d found earlier. “Something like this.”

  He leaned in to look at her phone and their shoulders brushed. Specks of plaster lightened his hair. With his face in profile, the bump where she’d broken his nose was more prominent.

  Embarrassed, she shoved her phone at him. “There’s a couple of options if you scroll through.”

  He swiped. “I don’t think this will work.” He returned her phone, grinning. “It won’t hold your baskets.”

  Instead of baskets or planters, the screen showed the picture she’d taken of her Cyrtorchis chailluana orchid this morning. A full-wattage grin from Daniel had the power to loosen her knees—and inhibitions. She grabbed her phone and scrolled back to the baskets. “Try these.”

  “The orchids might look classy in here.” Daniel said.

  At least she’d taken his mind off his brother. “The temperature and humidity aren’t ideal.”

  “I’m kidding.” He bumped her shoulder. “What size basket would you use?”

  “Four foot in here, unless you think I could use a six-foot planter.” The atrium was a rectangle. She stood and pointed. “I see three baskets on the long legs and two on the shorter legs.”

  “It sounds possible. I’d bolt them to the floor. There’s concrete under the wood. My team could help with the installation.”

  “Thanks.” She envisioned a tall Christmas tree on the main floor. And she would provide the ideas and labor to get this done. One more income stream in her quest to buy her apartment.

  “Done?” Daniel asked.

  “Yes.” She chewed her lip. Would Daniel go back and restart his fight with Nathan? They needed a referee. But she had to leave.

  Daniel stared at her mouth.

  She let her bottom lip slip out from between her teeth. His stare drilled into her core and the temperature climbed ten degrees.

  “Good.” His gaze slipped away from her face and he stared over her shoulder. “I should check on whether the crew, and Nathan, got the rooms finished.” Daniel spit out his brother’s name.

  It was wrong for the brothers to be estranged. She would do anything for her sisters.

  Bess straightened her shoulders. If she helped the brothers, she’d be helping Samuel and Debbie.

  “I have a couple of Carleton House ideas I need to run by you,” she lied.

  His jaw clenched. “Okay.”

  “I don’t mean now.” She reached out to touch him, but stopped. “Can you swing by Fitzgerald House around seven? We’ll grab a beer or a glass of wine and Abby’s appetizers.”

  He sighed. “Sure.”

  She waved him off. “Thanks for letting me into the condos.”

  As Daniel went to the stairs, she pulled out her phone. She only had a couple of hours to set up an intervention.

  * * *

  DANIEL SCRUBBED HIS hair with shampoo and let the water run down his head and shoulders. What new ideas had Bess and her sisters come up with for Carleton House? Couldn’t she get it together? He had deadlines.

  Darn it. What was wrong with him? He needed to treat Bess like a client. She deserved his respect. Why couldn’t he think of Bess that way?

  Because he’d seen her naked.

  He shook his head, the spray beading and rolling down the glass walls. He wished he had time to stand here and enjoy all three showerheads. It would be even better with a woman. But he hadn’t been interested in anyone since before he and Bess had slept together after the wedding.

  Bess would look exceptional wet and slick, her legs wrapped around his hips.

  Slamming off the water, he ignored his erection and dried off, rubbing his hair and combing it with his fingers.

 
; He drove as if on autopilot as he headed to Fitzgerald House.

  Driving through the historic district’s tree-covered neighborhoods, his shoulders softened and tension rolled off him. It was always like this. The quirky streets and buildings centered him. This was his home.

  He spotted a house he and Pop had restored. On the corner sat a gazebo he’d rebuilt. He and his crew had gutted and rehabbed the pub one street over.

  His fingerprints were all over the town. His town. Not Nathan’s.

  Unless his father felt better and took over the management, Daniel’s mark would be all over Carleton House, too.

  He parked next to Carleton House. In the courtyards, he stepped over the cones and orange plastic ribbon Bess had strung. What a contrast the gardens made now that the wall was down.

  The scent of late roses filled his nose. It was the only flower he could identify without help. Her curving paths led to interesting places to rest. The green hedges and bushes kept everything intimate. Bess might not have outgrown her impulsiveness, but she was good at what she did. He had to remember that.

  He headed to the Fitzgerald House kitchen door only to jerk to a stop in the middle of Bess’s gardens. Nathan’s truck was here. His temper pushed inside his chest like a wall bowing under the weight of an unsupported roof. Did Bess want him to see her and Nathan together? Was that what this meeting was about?

  He knocked on the door and walked into the kitchen.

  Abby stood next to the stove. “Hey, Daniel.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “Excellent.” She pointed a spoon covered in red sauce at him. “We are full.”

  “Good for you.” He moved through the great-smelling kitchen, his mouth watering. Suddenly he was hungry for pizza. “The carriage house has electricity.”

  She boogied, waving her spoon in the air. “How about water?”

  “That’s going slower than I’d like.”

  “I’ll bring over treats.” Abby tipped her head. “Let them know I’m the one who will be living there.”

  “Can’t hurt.”

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Meeting with Bess.” And wondering why his brother’s truck was in the parking lot.

  She pointed at the ceiling. “She’s in the second-floor parlor. With appetizers.”

  “Thanks.” He headed up the back stairs. He knew this house as well as he knew his own home. He’d helped Pop plenty over the years. And Bess had been his shadow. He’d been flattered that she’d had a crush on him. But she’d just kept pushing things until they’d slept together.

  The parlor door was partially closed. He waited, listening to Nathan’s voice rumble and Bess’s laugh.

  His muscles tensed as if he was on the blocks at the running track in high school. The starting gun fired and he pushed open the door.

  Nathan was sprawled in an armchair, his feet propped up on a footstool, looking mighty comfortable. Bess had the matching chair to his left.

  She leaned toward Nathan, smiling. His brother waved his hand as he talked. They both held half-empty wineglasses.

  Didn’t they look cozy? A growl formed in the back of his throat.

  Bess’s head jerked up. “Daniel.”

  Nathan scowled.

  Yeah, I’m cutting into your flirt time.

  Bess moved to the sideboard. “What are you drinking? We’ve got wine or beer.”

  Since they were drinking wine, he said, “Beer.”

  She pulled out a bottle and popped the cork. “I grabbed food from the wine tasting. Abby’s theme tonight was Tuscany. You can make a meal of her spinach-and-ricotta ravioli.”

  Bess handed him a plate filled with pasta and prosciutto-wrapped melon. Her hand shook and she wouldn’t look him in the eye. With the Forester brothers in the room, she should be nervous.

  He sat in the middle of the love seat.

  “Can’t you two say hello?” Bess asked.

  Nathan grunted.

  Daniel stuffed the melon in his mouth and nodded in the direction of his twin.

  “What’s your new ideas on Carleton House?” he asked. And why was Nathan here?

  “Eat first.” Bess held her glass in one hand and twirled the end of her braid around her finger. Her gaze darted toward him and then back to Nathan.

  “Carleton House? I thought you wanted to welcome me home.” Nathan refilled his wineglass.

  Bess took a deep breath, her tank top forming to her breasts. Breasts he’d seen bare just weeks ago.

  Daniel ripped his eyes back up to her face.

  “That wasn’t quite the truth.” Bess crossed her arms.

  “You lied?” Daniel asked.

  Nathan shook his head. “Figures.”

  Laughter filtered in from the hallway. Bess scrambled and shut the door before heading back to her chair. “Do your parents know you can’t even be cordial to each other?”

  “That’s not your business.” Daniel set his beer down with a clack.

  “It is when Samuel is the closest thing I’ve got to a father.” Her finger wagged back and forth between them. “You can’t even say hello. What would your mother say? And what about the stress your arguing puts on your father?”

  Daniel erupted from the sofa. “You don’t have a clue the kind of a screwup Nathan is.” He loomed over her.

  “And you don’t have any idea who I am now.” Nathan stood. “I’m not a troubled high school kid anymore. You don’t have to watch over or tattle on me.”

  Tattle? Daniel had held his tongue for too many years. “You make a stupid error and Pop’s business suffers.”

  Nathan threw up his hands. “No one can be as perfect as Saint Daniel!”

  “That’s always your answer,” Daniel shot back. “You can’t be me. Why even try. You went and—”

  “Water under the bridge,” Nathan shouted over him. “Get over it.”

  “I’m worried about you.” Bess pushed out of her chair, forcing Daniel to take a step back. “Can you both sit down? Let’s figure out how you can work together, for your parents. Nathan wants to try.”

  She and Nathan had planned this? Daniel jabbed a finger at Bess. “Stay out of this.”

  “I want to help.” She touched his arm. “We have to work together.”

  “This isn’t working together. This is you trying to make everyone feel good.” Daniel shot a chilling look at his twin. “Not happening.”

  “If I hadn’t walked in this afternoon, you might have hurt each other.” Bess wasn’t giving up.

  Nathan patted her shoulder. “Thanks for trying.”

  Daniel glared at them.

  “Please sit,” she pleaded. She held out her other hand. “The three of us can work things out.”

  “No.” He pushed Bess’s hand away and headed out the door. “Stay out of Forester business.”

  * * *

  BESS SANK INTO her chair. Her chest ached as if she’d been punched. “I...I wanted to help.”

  Nathan handed her wineglass to her, but she couldn’t put anything in her churning stomach. A shiver ran down her spine. Daniel’s eyes had been so cold.

  “I wish you’d told me the plan.” Nathan paced the room, drinking his own wine. “I could have told you it would be a disaster.”

  “Daniel’s good at what he does. His crew looks up to him.” Bess bit her lip. “Why can’t he act the same way with you and me?”

  She nearly slapped her hand over her mouth. This wasn’t about her messed-up relationship with Daniel. This was about getting the brothers to recognize each other’s strength.

  “My brother’s giving you trouble, too?” Nathan asked. “Doesn’t that figure.”

  She didn’t want Nathan to focus on that part of
her question. “You should have each other’s backs, like my sisters and I do.”

  “Most families don’t have the bonds you and your sisters have.” Nathan’s smile was wistful. “My brother sees me and can’t forget.”

  “Forget what?”

  “Our childhood.” Nathan shook his head. “I’m not the same person I was.”

  Bess gripped the chair arms. “Have you tried to talk? Maybe that would help Daniel get over it.”

  Nathan let out a humorless laugh. “He lives to be mad at me.”

  “What if you both worked up a list of good qualities in each other?”

  “Yeah.” Nathan shook his head. “His page would be blank.”

  “This isn’t healthy.” Bess rubbed her temples.

  “I don’t see things changing anytime soon.”

  She slouched deeper into the chair. It was wrong for the brothers to be at each other’s throats. “How can you work with all this tension?”

  “I can handle most anything for a couple of weeks.” He held up his wineglass. “This helps.”

  “There has to be something I can do.” She chewed her thumbnail.

  “You want to try after that?” Nathan looked at her, hope brightening his eyes. “Really?”

  She tipped her head. “You have to quit baiting him.”

  Nathan let out a deep breath. “I want my brother and me to have what you and your sisters have, but I can’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth.”

  “You have to try.” There was so much longing in his voice, she added, “And I’ll help.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Flowers are the music of the ground

  From earth’s lips spoken without sound.

  Edwin Curran

  “DEMO DAY!” Daniel hefted his tools. “The third floor needs to be stripped in two days, people.”

  He and the crew filed up the stairs. Maybe knocking down walls would release the lingering tension from Bess’s interference a couple of nights ago. “Quint, you’re with me.”

  The mustard-colored walls were hideous. Capped cords hung from the electrical fixtures. Paper and drop cloths protected the floors.

  He and Quint pried off trim, numbering the pieces as they worked. To Jasper, the helper, he said, “Make sure the other crews number everything.”