by Joanne Rock
“Of course I did.” Indignation made her shoulders pull tight. But then she seemed to deflate again, her right hand touching her bare left ring finger in an absent gesture. “But they were all pay phones.”
“I wish I’d known.” Rachel thought about all the times her mother had told her everything was “fine” back home when she’d called to check on her in the months afterward. “I could have been a better friend to you when you needed one.”
“Oh, honey, no. That’s not the idea you should take away at all.” Her mother shook her head so adamantly, the loose barrette holding her chin-length hair slid right out. “I’m only telling you now so you understand that I have every bit as much misplaced guilt as you do.”
Frowning, Rachel tried to follow what her mother was saying. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You think that I can’t possibly be responsible for your father’s actions, and you’re right. I’m not. But that doesn’t keep me from wondering what I could have done differently.” She reached into the side of her sewing basket and withdrew a plain brown envelope. “We both wrestle with guilt simply because we loved a flawed man.”
“So your point is we should both stop.” Rachel’s eyes remained on the envelope.
If she stopped feeling guilty about her dad, did that mean she could stop feeling guilty about Gavin, too? The thought crept through the back of her mind before she could halt it. No matter if it made sense or not, she had regretted hurting Gavin’s friendship with Luke.
“We owe it to ourselves to leave the past far behind us.” Her mother clutched the envelope tighter. “And I think I’m going to finally be able to do that once I give the town this.” Her mother passed her the envelope.
Too heavy to be a letter, the packet sat awkwardly in Rachel’s hand. She lifted the flap.
A fat stack of hundred-dollar bills filled the stiff paper.
“Mom—”
“Fourteen thousand dollars.” Her mother smiled triumphantly. “I’m repaying the town every cent your father stole.”
*
Rachel worked all the next day on the bridesmaid dresses, and late into the night. She hoped the soothing whir of the sewing machine would help her forget her mom’s scheme to repay the town, a plan Rachel had argued against for long afterward. For one thing, that debt was not her mother’s to pay. For another, giving Yuletide the money would surely only draw new attention to a scandal that had taken forever to die down in the first place. And finally, the local government had been reimbursed for the theft long ago by their insurance policy. Rachel had checked personally with the police since it had worried her too.
But none of those arguments seemed to sway her mother, who had some misguided notion that writing the town a check would buy acceptance for the remaining members of the Chambers family. So Rachel had sewed all day to put it out of her mind along with the fact that she still hadn’t spoken to Luke to smooth things over before the wedding in two days. Oh, and she also wanted to forget about Gavin’s question that still kept circling her brain.
What if I don’t want you to leave?
The crimson satin snagged in the machine, the bobbing needle slowing to a halt. Unfortunately, her work hadn’t really provided the mental escape she needed even though it was almost midnight. If anything, she was putting the dresses at risk by continuing to tweak them when her brain churned with unsettling thoughts. Technically, she was finished with the bridal party attire anyhow. She’d kept herself busy by creating decorative tags inside each dress with the wearer’s name and the date of Kiersten and Luke’s wedding.
Would Rachel ever have a wedding of her own? She hadn’t really dated anyone seriously since the debacle with Luke. She’d gone out, of course, but always in a more casual group as opposed to alone time with a guy. She’d been focused on her career. But being back home, seeing her friend get ready to marry, made her think about her own future. For a moment, she imagined herself walking down the aisle in a dress of her own design. In her mind’s eye, she saw Gavin in a tuxedo…
Beside her, her phone vibrated as she pulled the last dress out of the machine.
Gavin.
Seeing his name right after she’d been daydreaming about him sent a shiver through her. She couldn’t possibly talk to him now when she was so confused about him. Them. She held her breath as she let the call go to voicemail.
He’d messaged her earlier in the day, asking her to attend the rehearsal dinner with him. She’d thanked him nicely but refused. At this point, the main person she needed to see was the groom and she certainly wasn’t going to make peace with Luke at his rehearsal dinner. She’d have to find him before the dinner began. She’d called him twice this week and left her number.
The calls had gone unanswered.
Somehow, she needed to step up her efforts to see him. Then, she’d give Kiersten the dresses, talk her mother out of giving back that money, and maybe she’d finally feel like she’d made peace with the past. Maybe she’d find the same closure her girlfriends had when they followed that radio talk show’s advice.
Her phone vibrated a second, chastising time.
Feeling like she needed more time to figure out her next move with him, Rachel didn’t look at the screen, concentrating on smoothing out any wrinkles before she bagged Emma’s bridesmaid gown. Luke’s bachelor party should still be going on tonight, so she wasn’t sure why Gavin would be calling.
Turning back to the sewing table to switch off the task lamp, a thump reverberated against the attic windowpane.
She jumped back with a yelp. When she’d caught her breath again, she braved a peek outside.
Through the glow of red and green lights from her mother’s perpetually decorated house, Rachel squinted down to street level and saw Gavin Blake packing another snowball. A flutter of nerves or maybe pleasant awareness flitted through her. He squeezed the snow tight between two palms while she hurried to crack open the casement window.
“Gavin!” she whisper-yelled so as not to awaken her mother sleeping on the floor below. “What are you doing?”
Dropping the snowball, he swiped his hands together to dust off the flakes. He backed up a step so he didn’t have to crane his neck to see her. It really wasn’t fair he looked that good at midnight after a bachelor party. With his jeans, boots, and a gray fisherman’s sweater, he seemed impervious to the weather. Or like a man who practically lived in the snow.
“I’m trying my best to get your attention since you won’t answer your phone.” He folded his arms. “Now, do you want to come out and talk to me? Or do I need to come in there?”
Chapter Nine
A few minutes later, Rachel emerged wearing the green hooded cape and a pair of tall, fur-lined boots. Her dark hair was in a high ponytail and her face looked scrubbed clean in the moonlight. He knew he hadn’t woken her though, because he’d seen her shadow moving around in the uppermost window of Teeny Elf’s place. And yeah, he’d watched her for longer than he had a right to.
He’d been thinking about her all night, his preoccupation making him a fairly poor bachelor party host. Still, he’d done it because Luke was his buddy. Now, however, Gavin was very ready to see Rachel. Their talk the night before had ended too abruptly and left too many questions between them unanswered.
“You’re insane,” she accused in a soft grumble, snow muffling her steps as she moved toward him silently. “I thought you were supposed to be leading your friends in a raucous party before Luke ties the knot.”
“I did all the raucous partying I cared to do.” He shrugged. “I’m in training for one thing.” He didn’t take his performance lightly. “And for another, I knew all day that I wanted to try and see you tonight.”
She stared up at him with wide blue eyes, her dark bangs brushing the tops of her eyebrows. “The traditional approach is to arrange a meeting day ahead of time.”
“Which isn’t easy when you don’t answer my calls or texts.”
“So you pelt my windows wit
h snowballs?” She shivered, hugging the cape tighter.
“You used to like sneaking out at night,” he reasoned. “I did it for old time’s sake.” Taking one of her hands, he threaded her fingers through his and huffed a warm breath over her cool skin. “Why don’t we talk in my kitchen so you can warm up? I make a mean hot cocoa.”
She glanced at his house just a few steps away. Thinking.
“You can tell me how I should lay out the first floor when I pitch the revamped house to the town council.” He did have to write the proposal soon so he could start work on the house in the new year.
“I did want to share a crazy idea of my mom’s.” She looked to where he held her hand close to his lips.
He lowered it, not wanting to scare her off. “I have a lot of things I want to talk to you about too, Rachel. And I promise to be a total gentleman.”
She nodded, flustered. Even in the moonlight he could see her blushing. “Of course. I wasn’t worried about that.”
“Good.” Willing himself to let go of her completely, he forced his fingers to uncurl from around hers. “Because I have some of those homemade marshmallows they sell at the bakery. That’s my secret ingredient for the cocoa.”
“Now you’re just not fighting fair,” she accused softly, but she smiled at him in a way that made his chest squeeze tight. “I’d better have a taste or I’ll be dreaming about—” She slid a glance his way. “Er. That. The marshmallows, I mean.”
Something about that charged look she gave him let him know he wasn’t alone in thinking about her all day. Rachel Chambers had been contemplating him, too.
“Come on.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket and walked the side door of his place, determined to stick to the gentleman agenda.
A promise was a promise, after all.
A half an hour later, they were seated on the floor in front of the fireplace in the living room. She’d been the one to wander out of the kitchen—where he’d had every intention of staying—to bring her hot chocolate in front of the hearth. He’d stirred the blaze to life easily since he’d left a thick hickory log to burn earlier in the day. The thing hadn’t been all the way dry at the time, but after a slow burn for hours, it threw more heat with a little coaxing.
“And you can’t talk her out of it?” Gavin asked about the plan of her mother’s that Rachel was worrying about.
“I’ve tried. She’s adamant. And that’s a lot of money for her.”
“That’s a lot of money for most people.” He didn’t like the idea at all. Molly had been blameless in her husband’s theft. “But I worry if she makes a public act of donating the money, it will be difficult for the town to refuse. The council will be under a certain amount of pressure to accept it.”
Rachel leaned back against the leather wingback, setting aside her empty mug. “When’s the next meeting?”
“The last meeting of the year is on Monday—after the wedding but before Christmas.” His gaze lingered on her in spite of himself. She looked so pretty in a lightweight white sweater and dark jeans. One leg was covered in embroidered roses. “But I won’t be able to be there.”
“You need to return to your team,” she guessed. “I could extend my trip, but what if Mom tried to hand over the money to the mayor before that? She sees all the council members often enough.”
“The mayor and all the council members will be at the wedding, too. Don’t forget that Scott Malek is Luke’s cousin.” The Harris family was proud to have regained control of the town once Rachel’s dad fled.
“You think I should try and speak to one of them there? Ask the mayor privately to refuse the money?” She bit her lip, sending his thoughts wandering down a path that would only lead to kissing her again if he wasn’t careful.
“You could. I’m definitely going to confront him about his plans for the cross-country course. Let him know I consider it his tacit approval for my charity event.”
“Someone needs to push them to start making decisions with the town’s mission statement in mind. Spreading joy and cheer to visitors wasn’t just supposed to be a marketing ploy.” She tucked her knees closer to her chin and wrapped her arms around them.
“Someone should,” he agreed. “The focus on profit, by the way, has actually decreased the overall profitability of the town. But I think the more they focus on making money, the less they’re going to connect with people who want to experience the warmth and beauty of the season.”
He let her think about that for a moment, because he couldn’t help reminding her that her father’s creation was failing without a dynamic leader at the helm. When she was quiet for a moment, he continued.
“I know you don’t want to talk about that though. And I actually wanted to speak to you about something else tonight.”
“You do?” There was a hopeful light in her eyes. Or maybe it was simple relief that he wasn’t going to try and persuade her to stay in Yuletide again.
He didn’t let that sway him from his agenda though, knowing this conversation needed to happen.
“Yes.” He shifted on the floor so he could see her better, anchoring an arm on the couch as he turned more fully toward her. “I think we owe it to ourselves to talk about what happened the other night before the bachelorette party.”
Understanding lit her gaze. Her lips worked soundlessly for a moment before they snapped shut. He waited until she tried again.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Her voice had a throaty quality to it all the time. Now? The sudden, heated awareness in the room made it sound all the more sultry.
“I just think there was more to that kiss than we’ve acknowledged.” He didn’t take it lightly. And he knew her well enough to know that she didn’t either. “I don’t think we’re doing each other any favors by pretending it didn’t happen.”
“I’m not pretending.” She shook her head fast, her ponytail swishing against the leather wingback. “It’s just not a conversation that needs to happen right now.” She pursed her lips. Frowned. “Or ever.”
“Rachel.” He tried again. How could he leave this weekend without knowing if there was a chance between them? She’d been in his thoughts nonstop. “Think about this. We already parted ways once without knowing where things could lead between us. We just shut it down and moved on. And look what happened. We’re right back where we left off eight years ago.”
“I know where it could lead,” she informed him flatly, frustration evident in her tense shoulders. “Of course I know. That’s why I’m so careful to leave well enough alone, Gavin. I don’t want my heart broken.”
Her words pulled at something inside him. He understood what she was saying all too well. He felt the same way. At least she finally acknowledged the attraction openly.
“I don’t want my heart trounced either, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to go through life in bubble wrap just to keep it safe.”
“You’re a snowboard cross racer. You embrace risk every day.” She gesticulated with her hands, growing animated and making him realize she’d been thinking about it every bit as much as him. “I do not. I don’t like living on the edge.”
“That’s different.” He was surprised by a fierce need to convince her. “I don’t approach personal relationships with the same mindset I use when I race.”
She seemed to weigh the merits of the argument for a moment before some of the tension leaked out of her shoulders. She sagged against the wingback again. “But we can’t possibly have answers about where a relationship could go when you’re leaving town right after the wedding.”
“A lot can happen before then.” Realistically, he should just probably just let her go, for all of the reasons she’d articulated so well. But he couldn’t seem to make himself accept it. “You haven’t even seen Luke yet. You might make peace with him, with all of Yuletide, and be a hit at the wedding.”
Her half smile was troubled. “I’ve left messages for him. He knows I want to speak to him. But I’ll try again when
I deliver the bridesmaid dress to his sister. If he’s avoiding me, however, there’s only so much I can do.” She shook her head, dark ponytail swinging. “I can’t go to the wedding if I haven’t patched things up with him first.”
“I could drag him here.” He didn’t understand why Luke was being so damn obstinate. “He’d have to talk to you then.”
“I’m not making trouble between friends for a second time.” She stared into the crackling flames.
“All I’m asking is that you give us one real date. One more evening together. Go to the rehearsal dinner with me and see what happens.” He would personally make certain that Luke found time to see her tomorrow. As a best man, his role was to ensure the wedding went smoothly, and he figured that gave him license to steer the groom toward decisions that would make his bride happy.
Rachel’s gaze narrowed, a dubious expression pursing her lips. “That’s it?”
“You don’t know how awesome of an evening I can make it.” He hoped. Mostly, he wanted to be with her every second until they had to leave town. Just to see what might happen.
For once, he couldn’t scavenge up the will to think about the upcoming race. All he could think about was her.
“Fine.” She nodded, unfolding herself from where she sat on the floor and getting to her feet. “I’ll go to the rehearsal party with you.”
“But if you can make peace with Luke, you’ll go to the wedding too?” he pressed, knowing that had been the bride’s hope from the beginning.
He rose as well, standing with her in front of the fireplace while the blaze flickered golden shadows over her pretty face.
“Can we just take it one day at a time for now?” she asked, her fingers resting lightly on his chest for a too-brief moment.
His heart thudded faster. Hope, almost too much, tumbled through him hard.
“I can do that.” He wanted her to touch him again. Wanted to touch her too.
“Okay.” She nodded, extending her hand to seal the bargain. “You have yourself a deal.”
