by Jean Oram
“Are you homophobic?” The bodyguard was close, his breathing harsh and loud through his clenched teeth. He was studying him with a glint in his eye that Josh sure didn’t like. It was protective and fierce, which meant he’d fight like a mad fool, out to destroy anything he perceived as a threat. “Because my brother is gay and I’ve seen the shit he’s had to deal with, so you’d better watch your mouth or I’ll—”
“My dad is transgender,” Josh blurted out, wincing as the words hit their mark, his hands still held protectively in front of his face. Christ. He was going all-out tonight, wasn’t he?
Evander’s fist dropped, but the defensive challenge still laced his voice. “So?”
“So I know all about the stuff your brother faces and the fights he gets into because of his sexuality. He wouldn’t choose that kind of social rejection if he had a choice. Nobody would.” Except me, now that I’m coming out with my creations. Man, he was nuts. “And he’s incredibly brave to follow the beat of his own internal drum. It’s more than most people can do.”
“Then why are you making a big deal out of homosexuality?”
“Have you ever seen a man who wasn’t gay create pink frilly things for little girls and find it incredibly rewarding? How do you think that goes over? Usually ‘different’ means getting a fist in your gut.”
Evander laughed and slapped Josh on the back, his face lit up with amusement. “If I hadn’t seen that hungry look in your eye whenever you spy Simone I’d think you were gay based solely on that.”
“What hungry look?”
Evander simply gave him a smile and Josh let out an aggravated sigh, then flicked the generator switch. To his surprise, the engine roared to life. It looked as though the machine had merely overheated.
Evander stomped the snow off his boots outside the cottage door, then opened it, hollering, “Guess who fixed the generator? Someone had better show Josh some love under the mistletoe.”
He winked at him, then disappeared inside.
Josh hesitated, wondering why his heart had lifted at the thought of the beautiful and difficult Simone rewarding him under the mistletoe.
* * *
Josh let himself warm up in front of the fire before peeling off his snowsuit. The temperature had dropped outside over the past hour and a half and the wind was definitely too much for a helicopter, even though the flakes were no longer piling up in the same way.
“That storm is not letting up,” Connor said to the group.
“Are we here for the night?” Simone asked. Her arms were crossed under her breasts, lifting and pushing in a way Josh would love to see without the hindrance of her sweater and undergarments. Which made him realize that the men had been right—he’d developed a hunger for her. However, that didn’t mean it was going to go any further than that. She was prickly and didn’t want to let anyone close even though she kissed like an angel. A steamy, sexy angel who moved her mouth in erotic ways that were going to cause a commotion in his pants if he didn’t distract himself.
Distraction, distraction…well, he could just ponder how judgmental she was. That would surely make any man flaccid. She was so damned determined. She hadn’t even asked for her friends’ support with her whole baby thing. Talk about a powerhouse holding her cards close. She didn’t just have walls, she had a moat, fire-breathing dragons, molten lava, and burning oil ready to take down anyone who dared think of lending her sympathy or support.
What the hell kind of past had made her like that?
“We’re spending the night?” Hailey asked with a yawn.
“Looks that way,” Finian replied, massaging her shoulders.
“It’ll probably clear up by morning,” Tristen offered.
“I hope so,” Simone grumbled.
“Better find someone warm and cozy up,” Connor said, aiming a sly grin at Josh.
Cozy up. His eyes drifted to Simone, who met his gaze with a glare. He tried to fight a smile, but it broke through anyway, defying his wishes.
“Come on, baby.” He held out his arms to her. “You know you want it,” he teased. “You know you want a real man to hold you at night.”
She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat and turned on her heel. “Come on, Tigger. Let’s set you up with a bed.”
“I’m writing a letter to Santa with Evander. We’re not done yet.” She waved the half-written page as evidence.
Tristen’s daughter, Dot, who had been dozing in the window seat, said, “Is it warm upstairs yet?”
“Let’s check,” her father replied.
“Sleepover with Dot!” Tigger said, bouncing up, her letter forgotten.
Tristen and Evander moved up the stairs that led to a loft, to ensure the heater they’d set up was doing its job.
“Come on, Tigger,” Evander said. “Let’s get you settled. You’ll have to sleep in your clothes tonight.”
“Will Santa still come if we stay here?” Tigger called up the steps, not following.
Evander’s head appeared. “I don’t think Santa knows you’re staying here tonight.”
Tigger gave him a worried look and Josh stepped in, hoping Evander would be okay with his interference. “When I was a kid, Santa always left gifts for me at home even when we got snowed in at my grandma’s once. He won’t forget you.”
Noticing that she still had his phone, he held out his hand for it. The girl reluctantly placed it in his palm. “I organized it by colors.” She pointed at the folders she had created. Sure enough, all the blue apps were in one folder, all the orange ones in another. He wondered what else she had done while he hadn’t been paying attention.
“That’s great, thanks.”
“First ride out,” Connor said softly to Evander, who had come back down the stairs for Tigger. The men shared a look, everyone silently agreeing that they’d work as a team to get either Evander or Daphne home before the little girl, so Santa could prepare for her arrival.
People shuffled up and down the stairs, arranging beds, gathering extra bedding from upstairs and preparing the group for the night. Josh stayed out of the way, assuming he’d tough it out in front of the fire. Keep it going. Listen for the generator. Keep an eye out for the miraculous return of cell service or a rescue party. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d stayed up all night with nothing but flames for company. His attention still snapped to it whenever a log popped, but so far he’d resisted the urge to check the smoke detectors. He had a pretty good feeling they were outdated or had dead batteries, and that there were nowhere near enough in this old building to meet code. In fact, the one outside the kitchen door was hanging from its wiring.
He tried to make himself not care, but finally gave in and grabbed a chair, stepping up on it so he could test the dangling smoke detector.
It bleated shrilly in his ear. It worked and he was now deaf. He tucked the device back into its mounting bracket.
“Oh, don’t do that,” Melanie said. “We can’t pull the battery out when we burn toast otherwise.”
Pull the battery out. She’d just said that. A lawyer. A woman with more degrees than he could shake a stick at pulled the batteries out of smoke detectors. The very device that could save her life on a night like this.
“I’m a firefighter,” he said, summoning patience. “I can’t stay in a building where the smoke detector isn’t functioning in the way it was designed to. And it was designed to be in its brace. Once I’m gone, go ahead and do what you want, but I really need this in place tonight.”
Melanie shrugged. “Okay. That’s fine. I get where you’re coming from.”
If only Simone was as accommodating as her friend.
“And how’s that fire extinguisher?” He pointed to the red metal canister peeking out from under a pile of old rags near the kitchen door. “Has it expired?”
“They expire?”
Grant him serenity.
“Their neck seal weakens and they lose pressure. Especially if they’ve been discharged at all.�
�
“Oh.”
Great. He was going to be pulling people from a burning building in the middle of the night, wasn’t he?
“Thanks for fixing that,” Melanie said as he returned the chair to the card table, having righted the fire extinguisher and giving it a tap on its bottom in hopes of loosening its contents. “You went to Camp Adaker, didn’t you?” she added, joining him near what was becoming his favorite chair in front of the fire.
Josh felt himself bristle. Not where he expected the conversation to go. “This place is old and dry. You need to be careful with fire here.”
“You don’t want to talk about it?” she asked gently.
Adaker had been a summer camp for troubled teens. Some kids went there for a week. Some, like him, came for several summers before they figured out the light of day wasn’t out to get them.
He sighed. “It’s okay. The camp was good.”
“I liked it.”
“You went there?” he asked, not masking his surprise.
She nodded. “Shortly after my dad died. I thought I was the only person who’d had anything bad happened to them. The camp helped.”
Yeah, seeing kids who were truly up crap creek would have helped. Perspective and all that. He’d finally realized in year two that his problems really weren’t that bad. Nobody was beating him unconscious at the dinner table for not passing the salt fast enough, like some of those kids.
“Polly said they closed the camp?”
“They did, but these guys—” she jerked a thumb over her shoulder “—went and bought the whole darn island. Including the camp.” She gave a soft smile. “I’m going to open it again next summer. My grandma was one of the camp’s founders.”
“Keeping it in the family.”
She smiled, her eyes so warm and open that Josh felt himself relax. “Good luck. It provides a good service.”
“Thank you. I was wondering though…did the camp help you? Truly?”
“Yeah.” He glanced around, feeling self-conscious. He didn’t really want to talk about the camp with Simone around. He was a different person than he’d been back then, young and confused, controlled by a pulsing need to beat the snot out of anyone who stood in the way of his father’s happiness. If Simone heard he’d been at Adaker she’d go on about the macho thing again, either that or think he was a wimp who couldn’t handle his feelings and was in need of saving. Neither shoe fit.
Melanie lowered her voice. “Could I ask you about it one day? Nothing too personal. Just what helped and what didn’t? When I reopen the camp I want to take things up a notch. Not that it wasn’t great, but I want to have a good sense of what worked and what didn’t. You know? So I don’t cut the good stuff.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He pushed his hands into his thighs, stretching out his back. “That would be fine.” He glanced around the room. “Just…just make sure you keep the hands-on social workers. They were amazing.”
Melanie pressed a palm to his knee as he cleared his throat twice, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed.
He stood, poking at the fire even though it didn’t need it. He glanced up and said quickly, “Thanks for keeping Adaker open.”
She leaned back in the chair, clearly happy. “My grandma and her lover started the camp decades ago. Can’t let it go now, right?”
“Could I have everyone’s attention, please?” It was Evander. His tone was take-charge and everyone turned to face him. He coughed, fist to his mouth, then reached for Daphne, pulling her close. “Some amazing things happened last summer. To all of us.” He gave an apologetic look to Simone, and Josh wondered what was going on. “I’ve met royalty and worked in some amazing parts of the world, but the most incredible thing to ever happen has been Daphne allowing me to be a part of her life.”
“Me, too?” asked Tigger hopefully.
“You, too.” He ruffled her curls and she beamed up at him with so much love that Josh wished he could escape the private moment that was unfurling around him.
Evander cleared his throat. “With one look, Daphne breathed new hope and light into my heart. I had believed I was broken beyond repair, but I wasn’t. I just needed the love of this amazing woman, and I’m grateful for her every single day. I am blessed she gave me a chance.”
He glanced at Tigger and added, “And you, too, Miss Bounce.”
The girl beamed from her seat beside him, bouncing on her hands, which were tucked under her dress.
“I’m not always good with words, but I think it suffices to say that Daphne was right when she told me love changes the world. It starts with one person and spreads from there. And so I will do whatever I can to help her spread love. I will do whatever I need to ensure Daphne and her daughter are always happy, always safe and always loved. I know that Mr. Summer passed away a long time ago and Catherine not so long ago.” He cleared his throat again. “So, as I stand before you all, I summon your blessings as Daphne’s family as I ask for her hand in marriage.”
He lowered himself to one knee, drawing a small engagement ring from his back pocket. He held it out for Daphne, who bit her lip, trying to contain the joy that was already making her small frame vibrate. “Daphne, will you complete my life, my happiness, my heart, and marry me?”
“Say yes!” Tigger squealed, so loudly Josh laughed and rubbed his ears.
Daphne was silent for a long moment, looking so somber Josh feared she was going to refuse. Then she whispered, “I’m pregnant.”
The room was deathly quiet, then Evander stood slowly, looking enormous.
“We’re having a baby, Evander.”
“A baby!” Tigger nearly fell over. She pretended to fan herself, then jumped up and down, her little-girl persona breaking through her attempt at ladylike drama. “Make it a sister!”
Evander swept up Daphne, holding her close, not speaking. Muffled choking sounds came from the man, then he whooped loudly and swung her in circles, bouncing as he went, nearly knocking over nearby chairs, the floor creaking with his weight as he laughed with joy. He set his girlfriend down again, his eyes red-rimmed, his expression suddenly so somber, his mouth shaking with emotion. Then he crushed her against him once more, breathing her in.
“Uh, did we get an answer?” Dot asked.
Evander pushed Daphne away, clinging tight to her arms. He was pale, serious, ring still clutched between his large fingers.
She simply smiled up at him before blinking back tears and nodding, mouthing the word yes. She nodded again, more vigorously. “Yes!” She fell into his arms and he wrapped himself around her so completely that everyone clapped and cheered. A happy ending for a man who had only moments ago been completely insecure about the worth of his love.
“Yay!” Tigger piled onto the couple. “Evander’s my forever daddy and I’m going to be a sister!”
Josh glanced around the room. The other Summers were all smiling, embracing their own men, happy for their youngest sibling as Evander slipped a ring on her fingers.
And yet Simone was ghostly white, rocking back and forth as though preparing to start a race. She glanced up at the snowshoes above the fireplace and Josh knew he was going to have to keep an eye on her. Something was going on inside her head and it wasn’t good.
CHAPTER 7
As Daphne and Evander kissed each other as fiancée and fiancé, Simone found herself glancing over at JC to ensure their deal was still on. He gave a small nod, looking as serious and determined as she felt.
She no longer belonged here. Everyone was happy. Everyone was hooking up, having babies and moving on with their lives. She was moving on, too, in terms of her livelihood and identity, but it was all so incredibly fast. Everything was changing. Simone was no longer like her friends. Daphne had a family and was now making it official. Hailey was starting one, and the way Maya kept joking about puking, she was likely along the way, too. Even the proper do-it-by-the-book Melanie was trying to get pregnant before her wedding.
Simone didn’t even wa
nt to think about what was happening in her father’s life.
Everyone was getting what they wanted. Everyone was expanding their love, happiness radiating outward in waves, new people popping up on the planet as a result, and it made her desperate to have someone who would love her back.
Simone pulled out her sketchpad to clear her mind, despite having promised herself to ignore fresh ideas so they wouldn’t take over her new life. She leaned her shoulder against the mantel and, after taking a cleansing breath, used Maya as inspiration for her design. Around the room, adults still fussed over bedding and sleeping arrangements, as well as Daphne’s news.
With quick strokes of her pencil, Simone found herself digging into her own past instead of creating something for her friend.
Wanda’s words from the latest MOM meeting echoed in her mind. There’s nothing I can stock in my boutique that works for the twelve to seventeen-year-old crowd. It’s either too provocative, too little girlish or too mature. That age group is like the black hole of formal wear. Don’t even get me started on larger-sized gowns.
And didn’t Simone know it.
Memories of junior prom gowns flashed through her mind. Lots and lots of prom gowns, but only a handful that fit. Feelings of inadequacy, of being fat, uncomfortable, unattractive and different in all the wrong ways washed over her as though she was still in the moment, trying on dresses with Hailey. While her friend had been complaining that she’d have to take in the waists on many of the trendy garments, Simone had been wondering how she could make the adult-sized dresses into something hip and less revealing.
Every garment she tried on had been a shock to her system, sending her into a month-long depression that had been just as bad as when her parents had split a few months prior. The trauma caused her to pile on even more weight, adding to her prom dress problem. Her feelings of inadequacy had underscored everything as though drawn with a heavy hand in charcoal, and it wasn’t until she began designing gowns like the one coming to life on her sketchpad that she’d come back around again.
