The Bookworm and the Beast

by Charlee James

  Izzy looked down. She’d rolled the dough on her side paper thin. She blew out a breath entangled with a short laugh. “I guess I’m more wound-up than I thought. I want this to be the perfect holiday, for you guys and Derek, too.”

  Mary looked at her for a moment, then smiled. “I’m glad someone finally loves Derek like we do. He can be a little grouchy, you know.” They both laughed.

  Did Izzy love Derek, or was she caught up in the fantasy? The castle, the dashing looks, the spirit of the holidays swarming in the air, those kisses that lit her soul on fire. It wasn’t so cut and dry for her. When she was committed to something, it was 100 percent. Had she found the one she’d dreamed of her entire life in Derek? Or was it just that—a dream that would evaporate in less than two days, no matter how hard she fought to hold on to the edges of it?

  “Sounds like a regular henhouse in here.” Derek stood in the doorway, and a jolt of electricity spiraled through her at the sight of him. Her hands had found the hard body beneath his shirt less than an hour ago, and might find more tonight if she decided to meet him in his bedroom. She absently pushed down on the cookie cutter, and a sharp pain bit through the tip of her finger. She jerked back and glanced at the red drops beating down on the dough. Derek brows shot up and rushed to her side.

  “I shouldn’t have startled you,” he said, picking up her hand and inspecting the cut. If he minded the blood that dripped onto his skin, it didn’t show. “Come to the bathroom. We’ll get you a Band-Aid.”

  Derek gripped her wrist with one hand, put the other on her shoulder, and led her out of the kitchen toward the foyer powder room. Janet and Paul were just coming out of the parlor. Derek’s stepmom covered her mouth at the sight of the blood.

  “Oh dear, what happened?” Janet turned pale.

  “Another kitchen incident,” Izzy said. Atticus lumbered down the hall to see what all the fuss was about.

  “Maybe Janet and I should throw dinner in the oven. We don’t want you two to have another one of those incidents over a hot stove.” Paul’s eyes twinkled, and he squeezed Janet’s shoulder. Derek’s father had taken a brave step to open his heart again after his hopes and dreams had been dashed. Would Derek ever be ready to do the same?

  “Everything is prepped and in the fridge,” Derek said before Izzy could protest.

  He pulled her into the bathroom, shut the door behind them, and started fishing through the vanity cabinet.

  “I wanted them to put their feet up and relax. That’s what I’m here for, after all,” she said, and Derek turned to her with a box gripped in his hand.

  “Is it?” Derek’s eyes had darkened. They looked nearly black as he searched her face. The air grew heavy in the space between them, thick with unspoken wants and needs. How did she tell him it meant more but she still desperately needed the paycheck he was offering? It not only sounded pathetic, but it also sounded like a money grab. As if he’d picked up on her thoughts, he asked, “Is it all about the paycheck for you?”

  Izzy looked down at her hand. The blood had clotted and was starting to dry on her skin. She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t important. I’m in a tight spot, and it’s so embarrassing. But I’d be a liar to say that’s all it’s about.”

  “There’s nothing embarrassing about trying to provide for your family.” He lifted her chin. “Just know you’re not the employee anymore. I want you here. I can’t make any promises for tomorrow. I’m not sure what I’m capable of offering. So, for today, let’s just be, okay?”

  Izzy nodded. “I can do that.” Even as she said it, there was a sinking in her heart. Was he not capable of offering more, or just not capable of offering more to her? She wasn’t fooled by his hard outer shell. She’d witnessed him put his life on the line for his dog and carry shopping bags for an old woman. Derek had compassion to give whether he wanted to or not.

  His warm hand on hers sent a flurry of tingles through her, like cold flakes of snow on bare skin. He pulled her toward the sink and turned on the tap.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up.” His voice was quiet, and she let him hold her finger under the cool water, dry it off, and wrap the Band-Aid around the cut.

  “Don’t let my family get to you. Just be Izzy.” He kissed the bridge of her nose. If only he knew how hard she was trying—and maybe that was the problem.

  When they went back into the kitchen, Janet rounded the counter top and squeezed Izzy into a hug.

  “I’m so sorry if I upset you, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to pry into your life. Sometimes I get a little overzealous, but don’t think for a second we’re not thrilled Derek’s settling down.”

  She’d taken their faux relationship and locked it down with a ball and chain rather quickly. Now she could understand why Derek was so desperate to have her play live-in girlfriend.

  “Thank you,” Izzy said to Janet, and she meant it. Some of the tension she was holding ebbed.

  “The good news is, now we only have to decorate half the cookies before we eat them,” Mary said, earning smiles all around. Maybe this wouldn’t be as terrible as she thought. Izzy had always been her own worst enemy. The afternoon took a turn for the better when they gathered around the fire to play board games with a few glasses of wine, cheese, and fruit. She learned Derek was a sore loser, and his childish pout made her heart flutter as she laughed at him with the rest of his family. Afterward, she put the roast and the ham in one oven, and Janet put the prepped casserole dishes into the other. She made Derek promise to keep a close eye on everything and went up to her room to change.

  It had been a long time since she’d swiped mascara over her lashes and put blush on her cheeks. She took some extra time and care for the occasion and was surprised when she looked in the mirror. Her brown eyes looked nearly gold, and her fair skin had a peaches-and-cream glow. Was it Derek who put the sparkle in her eyes and the light into her skin? Izzy twisted her long curls to the right side of her face and fastened them there before spreading some scented cream on her skin.

  She still hadn’t fully made up her mind about going to Derek’s room when the night was over. Her heart was urging her to take this leap of faith, but her mind was telling her to put her silly fantasies aside.

  She slid the pure white dress off the hanger and over her head. Izzy looked in the mirror, and her breath caught. She felt beautiful for the first time she could remember. She was going to bottle the feeling and open it someday when her memory of this Christmas Eve began to fade.

  Izzy took one final glance in the mirror. She knew what she wanted this Christmas Eve, and it was Derek. She slid open a drawer, clutched the ornament she’d saved for Derek in her palm, and closed the door to her room. Originally, the pickle was supposed to lead Derek to the snow globe she’d bought at the mall, but she had something else in mind.

  Chapter Twelve

  Derek had just laid the potatoes on the table when Izzy stepped into the room, followed by Atticus. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She’d been beautiful since the first moment, but the sheer dress that skimmed above her knees rendered him speechless. She’d done something to her eyes that made them look even wider, and her lips were a glossy rose color. He swallowed back the thickness in his throat. Even Janet stopped filling the long-stemmed glasses with holiday punch.

  “Don’t you look prettier than a Christmas angel,” she said and put the pitcher, ripe with floating oranges, down on the table.

  Derek knew color would creep up Izzy’s cheeks at the compliment. How had he come to know her so intimately in such a short time? She wasn’t used to compliments, and it was a shame. Her mother and that dirtbag in college had done a number on her self-esteem. If she came to his bed tonight, he intended to show her in every way possible just how amazing she was. It wasn’t just her looks that drew him, though they were spectacular. She made him smile. Everything about her was soft and strong at the same time, and a steadfast pool of compassion filled her heart. But i
t was her eyes, a kaleidoscope of gold and chocolate, that made him finally trust. Those eyes had never held an ounce of ill-intention or dishonesty.

  Izzy sat next to Mary, who whispered something in her ear. Both girls chuckled, and suddenly the beat of his heart was amplified in his ears, a quick thrum that drowned out “O Holy Night” flowing from the surround-sound speakers. If Santa’s sleigh burst through the ballroom’s double doors and flattened him, he’d be less astounded. He’d fallen for Izzy. He didn’t know when, or how she’d broken down his carefully constructed wall of ice, but she had. Sometime between the moment she’d appeared at his doorstep and forced her way into his life and now, as she shared stories with his family, he’d lost his heart.

  “Take a seat,” his father said. Derek looked down at the table where everyone was sitting except for him. How long had he been standing there letting the weight of his realization absorb? He pulled out the last chair left, between his father and Mary.

  “Why don’t you give the toast tonight, Derek?” Janet asked.

  The last thing he wanted to do was speak. His head was fuzzy, as if he’d downed a full glass of Swedish glogg.

  His gaze lifted to Izzy. “To new chances and new beginnings. To letting ourselves trust enough to discover what the future holds.” His voice was unsteady, and his eyes didn’t move from Izzy’s. Derek lifted his glass toward the others, but all he could see was her. Did she pick up on his meaning, or did she think he was acting for his family’s sake?

  When his father blinked rapidly and busied himself scooping up buttery potatoes, something moved in Derek. His father understood what his words had implied. It would mean a lot to him that Derek would open his heart again after it was left so broken.

  “That was lovely, Derek.” Even Janet’s voice had dropped low and soft. She looked at Izzy, then at Derek. “We’re so thankful you found each other.” Janet laughed lightly and shook her head. “And to think I doubted when you first told me over the phone about Izzy. The love you share is so clear in person.”

  He couldn’t read Izzy’s face. Was it the chandelier lights glittering overhead, or did her skin go a shade paler? Throughout the dinner, he ate his meal without really tasting it. All he could focus on were the raw nerves swarming through his body. It scared him silly that Izzy might not feel the same way about him. What would happen if she returned to her life after this was over and left him here?

  “How did you two meet?” Paul set down his fork and stretched back. His plate had been cleared. Twice. It was a tribute to Izzy’s skills in the kitchen. He’d have to ask her someday where she learned.

  “Oh, I’ve been dying to hear.” Janet leaned forward and propped her forearms against the table.

  The question caught him off guard. Why hadn’t they discussed how they’d “met”? It was clearly something that would be brought up. How many more little details had they missed?

  “She just showed up on my doorstep one day and never left.” Derek cast a desperate glance at Izzy. Maybe she’d be able to elaborate, because right now his tongue was tangled.

  “Oh?” Janet raised a lined brow.

  Izzy let out a soft laugh, and every face turned to her, taking some of the pressure off him. “What he means is, my car broke down on my way to see my grandmother, and I had no cell service. Derek’s house was the first I saw, and I asked to use the landline.” Izzy grinned and glanced down at the glass of punch she was holding. “He was a bit of a grump,” she added.

  “Not our Derek.” Janet clapped her hands together once and started laughing. It didn’t matter that they were making fun of him. Izzy had saved the story, adding just enough truth to make it workable.

  “What happened after that?” Mary asked and swirled some turnip casserole around her plate.

  He looked at Izzy, who stared back at him blankly. Shoot, they’d hit a roadblock.

  “Nothing your adolescent ears need to hear.” Derek grinned and hoped that would shut everyone up so they could change the topic. He heard Izzy’s sharp inhale of breath.

  “Don’t make it sound like that. It was a slow build from friendship to trust and respect,” Izzy said as her face reddened.

  “Well, the house certainly needed a woman’s touch. It’s so nice you opened up the ballroom, and the decorations are spectacular. I can’t remember a holiday that felt so festive.”

  Derek could have kissed Janet for altering the course of conversation.

  “It’s been years since anyone has used this room or danced on its floors,” Paul said with a hint of wistfulness in his voice.

  Janet looked up at Paul, abandoned her dessert, and held out her hand. “This is the perfect song for a dance.” They stood together and walked over to the open space before embracing each other and moving in slow, coordinated steps. No matter how grating Janet was to Derek’s nerves at times, she was good for his dad, and he was happy for them. Would his outcome be the same as theirs if he told Izzy he loved her? He turned back to the table and took a gulp of his punch to quench the sudden dryness in his throat.

  “That’s so sweet,” Izzy whispered, and Derek followed her eyes back to the dance floor. Mary was doing a clumsy side step with Atticus’s paws on her shoulders. The dog seemed to be enjoying himself, so Derek tried not to worry about the fresh stitches.

  “Look,” Mary’s excited voice echoed through the open space. “Atticus can dance, too.”

  Izzy chuckled, and the smile that rested easily on her face was brighter than the silvery gleam of fresh snow outside.

  “Not too long, though,” Derek called. “Atticus needs to mind his stitches.” If he ever had children, he’d be a worrywart. His chair slid against the glossy wood floor as he stood up. “We don’t want to be the only curmudgeons sitting, do we?” He held out his hand, and a jolt pierced through him when she slipped her palm against his. Something had changed between them. He sensed she felt it, too.

  “You? Worried about being a curmudgeon? It’s nice to see the holiday spirit has finally gotten to you.” Derek raised his arm and let her twirl underneath. Her face was flushed with joy. If he had a choice to stay in this moment for eternity, the decision would be easy.

  He pulled her close so he could breathe in the scent of her hair. “Not the holiday spirit,” he murmured in her ear. “You.” Izzy’s heartbeat kicked up. He was holding her so close he could feel it thrum against the material of his shirt. She rested her cheek against his chest, and Derek lowered his chin to relax against the top of her head. They fit just right, and the room around them seemed to melt away like spring snow. Never had he been so keenly aware of his desire to just hold someone. To dissolve into their touch, taste, and scent. She’d come into his life and turned it upside down. He hadn’t wanted a relationship, certainly not love, but it had crept up and slapped him in the face. Now he couldn’t picture the library without her curled up with a book, or the kitchen without imagining their flour fight. In fact, he couldn’t see a future without Izzy in it at all.

  He glanced up, and his family was sitting back at the table, eating dessert. How long had they been dancing like this, oblivious to everything? With his arm still draped around Izzy, they walked back to the table.

  “We helped ourselves.” Janet grinned. “Dancing like that was probably dessert enough, but just in case.” She lifted the remaining cake and passed it to Derek. As he turned to serve himself and Izzy a slice, a green glint on the Christmas tree caught his eye. His lids narrowed as he tried to look closer. A pickle ornament? It couldn’t be. That thing had been stored in the attic for years, sealed up with the rest of his mother’s Christmas things. Besides, no one knew about that tradition aside from his father and Izzy. He glanced at the tree again, then at Izzy. She shot him a shy smile. What was she up to?

  “We better clear up and hit the sack before Santa comes,” Paul said and pinched Mary’s cheek. She rolled her eyes, looking more like a preteen than a ten-year-old.

  “I know you’re Santa, Dad,” she muttere
d and blew out an exasperated breath that puffed up a lock of her hair.

  “Let an old man enjoy his role. I can’t sneak down with Christmas gifts until you’re dreaming of sugarplums.” His dad ruffled Mary’s hair, and there was a dull pain in Derek’s heart. His father had been blessed with a second chance, and now his life was full. What was his mother doing right now? Had she moved on as well, started a new life with a new family? He hated the unknown. She could be dead or alive, in pain or filled with happiness. They would never know, and it would always bother him.

  He looked over at Izzy, who was helping Janet clear the table with a contented smile on her face. It was time. Time to move on and let go of past hurts, time to decide what kind of future he wanted, and time to embrace the fresh start with a woman he never thought existed.

  “Atticus and I will take care of this.” Derek lowered his plate and let the dog lick it clean.

  “Gross!” Mary squealed. This had turned out to be the best Christmas Eve he’d had since his mother left. Izzy had been right on all accounts, and he was grateful she’d all but shoved the holiday spirit down his throat.

  “Really, I’ll clean up. It’s getting late,” Derek said, and after several good nights and hugs from Mary and Janet, his family disappeared into the hallway, all but Izzy.

  Derek leaned in and kissed her cheek, enjoying her silky skin against his lips. Would the rest of her be so soft? Would she give him the chance to find out?

  “Chefs don’t clean up.” He touched the tips of her loose curls. “Get some rest.”

  “It was a great night, wasn’t it?”

  “Best I can remember.” Derek offered her a grin, even though his body was thrumming with tension. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything.

  “Me, too. Good night,” Izzy said. He watched her walk out of the room and then stacked the rest of the dishes quickly. He took the plates and silverware downstairs, dumped them in the sink, and filled the stainless-steel basin with soapy water. It was good enough for tonight. He had more important things to think about. He started back toward the ballroom, thoughts of Izzy racing through his head. The glint of the pickle ornament was visible a few feet away from the tree. She’d placed the ornament so it would catch his eye. He was touched she’d remember his mother’s tradition and go to the trouble of buying the ornament when she didn’t have much to spare. Derek held the branch it rested on with one hand and pulled it off with the other. His fingers connected with a strip of paper fastened to the back of the ornament. His heart leaped and began pounding against his rib cage. Fingers fumbling, he removed the paper and spread it open.