by Kirk, Cindy
This time there’d been such hope in her old friend’s eyes that Ami had found herself agreeing. Maybe she’d said yes because it was Christmas. Or maybe because lately she’d started wondering just who she was punishing by keeping Lindsay at arm’s length.
The air was crisp and the sky dotted with a thousand stars. The sidewalks were crowded with shoppers in high spirits.
The first business on their stroll was the Enchanted Florist, the shop where Lindsay worked as a floral designer. With charming smiles, the teenage daughters of the owner offered them cookies shaped like pretty spring flowers.
Lindsay chose one resembling a daffodil. After dropping a donation in the Giving Tree jar, her friend held up the perfectly formed creation. “This looks like your work.”
“Guilty.” Ami picked up a lavender cookie on a stick and sank her teeth in the buttery sweetness. “Your boss insisted on flowers in pastels instead of traditional Christmas cookies. They stand out, so it seems to have been a smart move.”
“Shirley has a good sense for what works and what doesn’t,” Lindsay said.
Ami added her own donation to the jar before they wandered outside. When she complained of being chilled, Lindsay insisted on buying them both cups of steaming cocoa from a vendor in the town square.
“Christmas Stroll brings back such good memories. Remember how we used to meet at the general store, then make the rounds chowing down food and lusting after the hot guys?” Lindsay’s eyes filled with a look of bemused remembrance. “I practically stalked Jeremy Rakes. Of course that was a wasted effort. Back then he only had eyes for your sister. How is Fin, by the way?”
“She’s still working in Los Angeles for that advertising agency.” Ami was proud of the success her sister had achieved. She only wished Fin lived closer and could visit more often. “She’ll be back for Christmas this year. She’s coming early for my dad’s open house.”
“I appreciated the invitation.” Lindsay took a sip of cocoa and popped the last piece of the daffodil cookie into her mouth. “I can’t wait to see your family again.”
Ami had debated whether to invite Lindsay, but growing up she’d been close to all of Ami’s sisters. Besides, barring a miracle, Lindsay’s mother would be there. No doubt hanging all over Ami’s father. She pressed her lips together and shoved the disturbing image aside.
“It’ll be a hectic time. Speaking of hectic.” Ami shot a curious glance in Lindsay’s direction. “What’s it like having a teenager in the house?”
“It’s . . . different but good. My apartment isn’t all that big, but we’re making it work.” Lindsay grasped Ami’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I can’t thank you and Beck enough for what you did for our family.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Ami protested.
“You hooked us up with Beck.” Lindsay’s eyes turned misty. “When I think of what might have happened to Dakota . . .”
“Hey.” Ami met Lindsay’s gaze. “It’s all good now.”
“Beck was magnificent. You should have seen Cassie’s face when he mentioned social services. And Clint, well, that guy is a loose cannon anyway. They practically threw Dakota at me. Neither of them wants a social worker getting in their business.” The smile on Lindsay’s face disappeared. “I still believe Cassie will eventually come to her senses and kick that loser to the curb. Until that happens, Dakota will live with me. I’ll keep her safe.”
Ami exhaled a sigh. “It’s still difficult for me to reconcile the current Cassie with the girl I knew all those years ago. Your sister was always so kind and gentle. It wasn’t until after your father died that she began to change.”
“They were very close. When he had the heart attack and died, it hit her hard. She and Mom were always at odds. That’s because they’re so much alike.”
Ami knew Anita would go ballistic if she heard anyone comparing her to her wayward daughter. The twinkle in her friend’s eyes told Ami that was her thought as well.
The shared understanding reminded Ami how it had once been between her and Lindsay. Back in high school they were so in sync they often finished each other’s thoughts. The night when Ami thought she’d killed her best friend had been the worst one of her life.
Lindsay’s eyes softened, correctly interpreting Ami’s expression. “We need to move on from that night.”
“I haven’t always made the best choices.”
“I haven’t, either. That’s part of growing up.” Lindsay’s voice was matter-of-fact. “How many of us are the same as we were at seventeen? Or even at twenty-five? We learn, we grow, and hopefully become better and wiser women. That’s not something to regret. It’s something to celebrate.”
“Yes, but—”
“Stop. No more guilt. I don’t blame you for my injuries, Ami. I chose not to buckle my seat belt.” Lindsay’s voice now trembled with emotion. “I’m tired of waiting for you to forgive yourself for something that wasn’t your fault. I want my friend back.”
Ami stilled the apology on her tongue. Perhaps Lindsay was right. Perhaps it was time to move on. She took a breath, let it out slowly. “Tonight has been fun. Let’s do it again.”
Lindsay nodded. No other words were necessary.
“Dakota is worried about her mom.” Her friend circled back to their earlier discussion. “I assured her I’ll make sure Cassie and the boys have what they need and she just needs to focus on getting good grades. I have to tell you, she’s superexcited about the part-time job. That was nice of Beck.”
Ami’s lips curved. “He’s a good guy.”
With each step they took toward the general store, the scent of spicy brats grew stronger. They were almost to the front porch of the clapboard structure when Lindsay elbowed Ami. “You and Beck seem to get on well.”
“We do.” Ami kept her tone offhand. “Considering his shop is right next door to mine, that’s fortunate.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Lindsay shot her a teasing smile, which made the scar on her cheek more prominent. “Are you two exclusive?”
While her own feelings were strong and true, Ami wasn’t sure what was going on in Beck’s head. Though she felt certain he cared for her, that’s all she knew for sure. Heck, she didn’t even know if they were really dating, much less if they were exclusive.
“Beck and I are good friends.” Ami waved a careless hand in the air. “We hang out every now and then.”
“Are you saying he’s available?” Lindsay asked as they stepped onto the porch of the general store. “Because Greer Chapin asked me about him.”
Greer was Clay’s younger sister. She’d been in Marigold’s class in school. Like all the Chapin brood, she’d left Good Hope for college. The pretty brunette had returned to the peninsula several years after graduation to work in one of the family’s many banks on the peninsula.
Ami hesitated. She certainly didn’t want to lie and say that she and Beck were “together” just because they’d made love. But she also didn’t want to give Greer the green light. “I wouldn’t exactly say Beck and I are together—”
“We’re together,” a familiar, deep voice insisted as a hand slid around her waist and warm lips brushed across her cheek. “Hello, Lindsay. How’s Dakota?”
Ami tried to put a little distance between her and Beck as Lindsay brought him up to speed on the teen. Beck would have none of it, keeping his arm firmly anchored around her waist.
His smile widened to include both of them. “Have you been tasting all the treats?”
“You bet. That’s why we stroll.” Lindsay smiled at Ami. “We were just talking about our high school days. We religiously visited all the shops. Except for our senior year when I—”
Ami braced herself, but before Lindsay could say more, Eliza walked up. The stylish shop owner was dressed all in black, including a midlength boiled wool coat Ami didn’t recall having seen before.
Lindsay got a warm hug.
Ami received a cool smile.
“I texted you.”
Eliza focused on Lindsay. “When you didn’t answer, I assumed you were out strolling.”
But not with Ami in tow, Eliza’s look seemed to say.
“It feels like old times. Especially now, having you with us.” Seeming oblivious to the tension, Lindsay hooked her arm through Eliza’s and flashed Ami a sunny smile. “The three of us always had such fun together.”
Beck’s eyes met Ami’s and she saw the puzzlement in his gaze.
“Yes, well.” Eliza shifted from one polished boot to the other. “That was a long time ago.”
“I’ll let you ladies—” Beck began, but Eliza didn’t let him finish.
“How’s the main floor coming?” The dark-haired beauty narrowed her gaze. “You realize the Victorian home tour is this Friday.”
“Is it?” Beck’s mild tone had Eliza’s eyes flashing.
“People will expect to see the inside decorated for the holidays,” Eliza pressed. “I don’t recall seeing Christmas lights on a tree.”
Beck flicked a glance at his wrist. “Actually, I’m headed home now to trim the tree. It was delivered Friday afternoon.”
Eliza’s gaze shifted to Ami. “You should help him. You know the level of decorating the community expects.”
Ami opened her mouth but Beck beat her to it. “She’s out with her friend this evening.”
“I’ll keep Lindsay entertained.” Eliza glanced at her friend. “Okay with you, Lin?”
“Sure.” Lindsay smiled amiably and gave Ami a little push in Beck’s direction. “You two friends have fun.”
“I know you’ve put in long hours today, so,” Beck said to Ami, shooting a censuring glance in Eliza’s direction, “there’s no obligation.”
Based on the pointed look Eliza sent her, Ami knew that the executive director of the Cherries considered helping Beck get his house ready for the tour very much an obligation.
“I’d love to help,” she told Beck, then turned and gave Lindsay a hug. She held her friend tight for an extra second, vowing to hold this precious gift of friendship equally tight. “It’s been fun.”
“We’ll do it again.” Lindsay smiled at Eliza. “Next time with the three of us.”
“That was strange,” Beck remarked moments later as they climbed the steps leading to his front porch.
Ami could feel Eliza’s eyes on them. She was seized with the unladylike urge to turn around and stick out her tongue as Beck unlocked the door. What kind of luck was it that Eliza’s store was directly across the street from Beck’s house?
Keeping her tongue inside her mouth, she stepped inside.
Beck pulled the door shut behind them. “I didn’t realize you three were such good friends.”
Ami caught the curiosity in his tone.
“Lindsay and I were once pretty close.” Even as she said the words, Ami felt a stab of guilt. If anyone had pushed back from their friendship, it had been her. “Eliza was always more Lindsay’s friend than mine.”
Which, while also true, didn’t negate the fact that she and Eliza had once laughed and talked and enjoyed each other’s company. Now that they were both Cherries and business owners they should have had a lot in common. Yet they’d never been further apart.
Lindsay’s acceptance had shown her it was possible to move on. While Ami would never stop regretting her actions of that long-ago night, she didn’t have to let the past define her present and future. But first she needed to come clean with Beck about her past.
Then, depending on his reaction, they could move on. Or not. At least there would be no more lies between them.
She was deciding how to best broach the subject when Beck paused in the foyer and held out his hand.
As she gazed at those outstretched fingers, erotic memories rushed forward, swamping her.
“May I take your coat?” he asked when she only continued to stare.
She handed him her jacket and gave a husky chuckle. “The last time you held out your hand to me, you wanted to take me to bed.”
A look she couldn’t quite interpret flared in those dark eyes. “It would be presumptuous to assume just because we did it once—”
“Once?” Ami arched a brow. “I seem to recall a time in the shower. And then in the kitchen . . . And that just covers Wednesday night.”
“Good point.” His lips twitched. “There’s another factor to consider. Eliza will be keeping a keen eye on my front window, waiting to see when the Christmas tree lights turn on.” He hung her coat next to his. “If she sees—”
“—your bedroom light go on instead, she’ll know the decorating plans likely got sidetracked.” Ami grinned. “She’d be right.”
“I know you’ll say you don’t care what she thinks.” His voice lowered and he brushed a wisp of hair back from her cheek with gentle fingers. “I don’t want her spreading gossip about you.”
“I don’t care.” Ami stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I want you.”
A pleased smile lifted his lips. “I want you, too.”
His low voice brushed against her heart like a caress.
Beck kissed her softly, then stepped back, forcing her to release him. “I believe it’s possible to have the evening we want and appease Eliza at the same time.”
After flicking on the parlor lights, he strolled to the tree, a beautifully shaped fir that nearly touched the ceiling.
Reaching into a box, he pulled out a string of lights. With quick, deft movements, Beck untangled them, then wrapped the tiny bulbs around the middle part of the tree and plugged them in.
The brightly lit fir sat in front of the window, ensuring the lights would be clearly visible through the lace curtains.
“I’d say we worked long enough on the tree,” Beck announced. “It’s time for a break.”
With her fingers clasped in his warm, comforting grip, they climbed the steps to the second floor. While Beck busied himself lowering the privacy shades in his sitting area and adjacent bedroom, Ami lit candles and kept her gaze fixed on him.
The angular lines of his face seemed softer in the candlelight, and his dark hair shimmered like fine mahogany. In such a short time, he’d grown so familiar, so dear.
It was odd that when she least expected it, Mr. Right—complete with a southern accent and a kind heart hidden under a sometimes gruff demeanor—had dropped into her life.
When Beck motioned her closer, her heart flip-flopped. This man was everything she wanted, and she appeared to be what he wanted, too.
Would he still want her once he knew her secret? Before they made love, she needed to come clean.
Ami was forming the confession in her head when his warm mouth closed over hers, scrambling her thoughts.
He enfolded her more fully in his arms, his tongue sliding across her lips. When she opened her mouth to him and he possessed her fully, all rational thought vanished.
Tonight, she would show him how much she loved him.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to tell him the truth. This time, the whole truth.
Chapter Seventeen
When the doorbell rang Monday evening, Beck knew who’d be on the other side of the door. Max had called earlier that afternoon and asked if he wanted to go to a fundraiser for Cory White at the Flying Crane. Beck offered to meet his friend at the bar, but Max insisted on swinging by the house after he left the office.
“You have a Santa in your yard.” Max held the door open and gestured with one gloved hand toward the slope of the snow-covered yard.
Beck ignored the comment. “In or out, Brody. I’m not paying to heat the outside.”
With a smirk, Max stepped into the foyer. “Seriously, man, you’ve been pranked.”
“It’s not a Santa Claus, it’s Father Christmas.” Beck reached for his coat and slipped it on. “The antique dealer from Sturgeon Bay tossed him and the reindeer in with the other stuff he loaned me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The furniture, rugs, and pictures for
the main level are all on loan,” Beck explained. “Which you’d know if you weren’t out gallivanting around the country.”
“Hey, I had to help Granny get settled in her new retirement home. I even got her tree up before I left.”
“Good for you. Mine is up, too.”
“You put up a tree?”
“It’s Christmas, Max. And with the Victorian home tour this weekend—”
“Don’t tell me Beckett Scrooge Cross is participating in a community event.” Max put a hand over his heart and pretended to stagger back.
“It’s good for the economy. The tour brings people into the area.” Beck tossed the words over his shoulder as Max followed him onto the porch.
Max grinned. “I recall saying those same words to you and having my head bit off.”
“Your big head looks intact to me.”
Max laughed and two women walking by the house paused to smile and wave.
Beck didn’t know them but nonetheless lifted a hand in greeting.
The second he stepped off the porch, a blast of north wind slapped his face. The schizophrenic weather had gone Nordic, with the pleasant temperatures of the past few weeks only a distant memory. His southern blood recoiled against the cold and Beck shivered.
Walking briskly helped some, but he could have cheered when the bar came into view. As they drew closer to where the Flying Crane sat overlooking the bay, sounds of music and laughter filled the frigid air.
Max cast an assessing glance in Beck’s direction. “You look different.”
Beck didn’t respond. He’d learned early on that the accountant loved to hear himself talk and that responses to 90 percent of what Max said were optional.
“I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.” Like Beck, the CPA was dressed casually for the evening in jeans, boots, and a sweater, topped by a coat.
Back in Bogart, most of the fundraisers Beck attended were black tie and held at one of the many country clubs in the area. He already knew this one would involve a live band, lots of beer, and music loud enough to perforate eardrums.
