by Clare Revell
Stacey hugged her and Holly returned her hug. “Are you OK, Holly?” Her gaze held Holly’s for a long moment. Aside from her immediate family, Stacey was the one person who knew all the details of what happened that dark night five months ago. Not even the press had received the full story.
Holly nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine, aside from the hairspray irritating my head. But look at you, Mrs. Rodgers. You’re glowing with happiness.”
Stacey beamed and slid her arm into Phil’s. “Thank you.”
The organ started playing again and Kyle offered Holly his arm. “May this penguin waddle down the aisle with you?” There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice and Holly had to resist the urge to roll her eyes.
Jerking her head in response, she took his arm and followed Stacey and Phil down the aisle, and then out under the arch of fireman’s axes, into the cold winter sunshine. A light dusting of snow lay on the ground. Fairy lights twisted through the trees and around the church porch, making a beautiful backdrop for the wedding pictures. The weather a week before Christmas was way too cold to stand still and pose in, and despite the long sleeves on her dress, she shivered.
At last, the photos taken, the bride and groom showered with rice and confetti, Phil lifted Stacey into the huge fire truck decked out with white ribbons and a massive “just married” sign on the back. Holly tucked Stacey’s train around her feet and stood with the others waving as they drove away. She made sure that other guests knew where they were going, as did Kyle. Then she made her way over to the cars, hoping that Kyle either had his own car, or would ride with Stacey’s parents in the other one.
The driver opened the car door and Holly climbed in for the three mile drive to the hotel. She caught her breath as Kyle got in and sat beside her. Closing her eyes, she took several deep, calming breaths. Once the car started moving, she dumped her flowers onto her lap. Raising her hands to her head, Holly scratched her head hard, trying not to dislodge her headdress. No matter how hard she scratched, she didn’t get any relief at all.
What she needed was to take her hair down completely and wash the hairspray out. Failing that, maybe a hairbrush.
****
Kyle looked at the beautiful woman beside him, a mixture of amusement and shock filling him. By the looks of things, she was determined to ruin her hair before the reception. A shame, because it really suited her like that. He broke off that thought. He had no interest in a relationship, especially not with this woman. It was too close to home.
He raised an eyebrow. “Problems?”
“I’m allergic to hairspray. The girl in the salon used way too much despite me telling her not to use any.” Holly kept scratching. “I never use hairspray for this very reason. Tell you one thing. I wouldn’t go back there.”
He laughed and made an attempt at humour. Maybe it would help. “My niece scratches like that. She has nits.”
Outrage flashed across her sculpted features. “I do not have nits. It’s the hairspray.”
“Then what’s this?” He leaned closer and plucked something from her hair, grinning. “Oh, my mistake, its dandruff.”
Holly glared at him, her blue eyes sparkling with what could be anger or tears, he wasn’t sure. She moved across the seat. “I don’t have nits or dandruff, thank you very much. My hair was in perfect condition before that idiot hairdresser got her hands on it a couple of hours ago. What is your problem?”
Kyle managed not to flinch. Maybe he wasn’t as funny as he thought he was. “It was a joke. I apologize.”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t a very funny one.”
“I’m sorry.”
Holly looked at him for a moment, then twisted and gazed out of the window, ignoring him.
Kyle watched her for a minute, and then looked out the window on his side. This was going to be one very long day. His stomach turned and despite his best intentions, his gaze kept moving to look at her. She was an incredibly beautiful woman. How any man could want to hurt her was beyond him.
He cleared his throat, trying to get her attention.
“Yes?” Her voice was tight and sounded as if she were fighting a battle within.
“We seem to have got to off to a bad start, I—”
She cut him off. “You reckon?”
For a moment he wondered what he had done. Surely she hadn’t taken that much offense at what he said. “Please, look at me. I hate talking to the back of someone’s head.”
Obediently, she turned to face him.
He nodded, holding her gaze. “Like it or not, we have to do certain things together today. We have our duties to our friends.”
Holly’s tone matched the ice in her eyes. “Like the first dance? Tradition dictates that the bride and groom lead out, followed by the best man and chief bridesmaid.” She paused. “Honestly, I’m dreading it, as I hate dancing, especially in these heels, but like you said, today isn’t about us.”
“So, can we at least be civil to each other?”
“Sure. I can, if you can.”
“Yes.”
“Good.” She turned away again.
Kyle sighed internally. What was she really thinking about him? Way to go to make a first impression. But she wasn’t making it easy. Yes she had issues, but did she have to be so rude?
When the car finally pulled up outside the hotel, Kyle headed straight into the foyer to let the manager know they were here. He immersed himself in tasks for a while, arranging the receiving line and making sure all the guests were getting drinks and nibbles as they arrived. He glanced at Holly, drawn to her in a way he didn’t understand.
Lord, why are You doing this? I don’t want another relationship. Not now, not ever. And definitely not with her. She’s pretty, and under that prickly exterior is probably a really nice person. But she’s not Jayne. She was attacked by the person who killed Jayne. It’s too close to home.
He felt bad about the way he’d spoken in the car. Even though he’d apologized, she was still upset with him, and he didn’t want that. He’d apologize again. He grabbed a juice from one of the trays and sipped it. Then he headed over to find Phil. “They’ll be ready for you to do the receiving line in about fifteen minutes. That OK?”
Phil nodded. “That’s fine. So what do you think of Holly, then?”
Kyle shoved his free hand into his pocket. “Right now? I owe her an apology, so if you’ll excuse me I shall go find her and do that.”
Phil shook his head. “Apology? What did you do?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“Sure I do.”
“About the second worst thing you can tell a woman; I insulted her hair.”
“Kyle.” Phil sounded shocked. “Coming from you that’s bad.”
“I know. Maybe I can offer to help with it. The hairdresser ruined it, apparently.” He drained the glass, put it on the side and went off in search of Holly. He had a feeling he’d seen her before, and not just from the newspapers. Her voice had something…He shook his head. He’d remember if they’d met, he was sure of it.
****
Holly managed to avoid Kyle as they mingled with the guests. Not only was he a totally sexist, male chauvinist pig, he was rude and insensitive. Half tempted to fake a migraine and go home, Holly wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She didn’t intend to let any man intimidate her ever again. Especially one as good looking as...
She broke off. Where’d that come from? She just needed to concentrate on Stacey and not on the thought of spending the rest of the day with that joker on her arm. She reached up and scratched her head again. OK, enough is enough. Making sure Stacey was all right and wouldn’t miss her for a few minutes, Holly disappeared into the ladies room.
Standing in front of the mirror, she pulled off her headdress and yanked all the clips out of her hair. She shook her head hard, sending her hair flying in all directions, and then began to scratch her head as intensely as she could with her finger nails. For once she didn’t care if it destroyed the
French polish on them. That would be a small price to pay to stop the itching.
The relief was instantaneous. Holly closed her eyes.
“Are you all right?”
Season for Miracles
3
Holly’s gaze shot to the reflection in the mirror. Kyle.
Was he lost? Or had she made a mistake and wandered into the wrong room? A quick glance at the vending machines assured her she wasn’t in the gents. He was in the ladies. She narrowed her gaze as she lowered her hands and studied Kyle’s reflection, not giving him the satisfaction of turning around. “This is the ladies room.”
“I know. I had this burning desire to go where no man has gone before.”
His grin and ill-timed sense of humour annoyed her. As did the way her heart pounded, butterflies filled her stomach and her gut knotted. His voice sent shards of apprehension down her spine, coiling them so tight that she couldn’t breathe. Was it simply the normal fear at being so close to a man, or was it something else? Somehow, it didn’t feel as frightning. She swallowed hard, hoping her voice would stay level. “That’s not funny. What are you doing in here?”
Kyle’s reflection studied her, the hint of amusement fading from his gaze. “I wanted to apologize, again, and see if I could give you a hand with your hair.”
Holly’s eyes widened. “My hair?”
He crossed the room, his cologne preceding him and suffocating her. He stood behind her and jerked his head at hers. “Well, you can hardly go back out there and stand in the receiving line looking like a scarecrow, can you?”
A scarecrow? How dare he?
Her opinion of him dropped another notch. Tearing her eyes from his, she gazed at her pale, ghost-like reflection. “I...I guess not.” She pulled her fingers through her hair. Now she’d let it down, it was all too obvious the girl from the salon hadn’t cut it straight either. It was ruined. What could she do with it?
Hot tears filled her eyes and Holly blinked them away, determined not to show weakness in front of this stranger. Gripping the sink hard, she took a few deep breaths, willing the panic and nausea to subside.
His voice brought her attention back to him. “Do you have a comb?”
Stupid question . “Yes, I do. I can manage.”
He studied her hard for a moment, recognition flitting in his eyes and a faint smile on his lips. “We’ve met before, haven’t we? Last night. I stopped to help a woman motorist who was adamant she didn’t need any help. It was you.”
Holly pulled the comb from the small purse that matched her dress and tried to tug it through her hair. “Yes it was. And just like I managed last night, I can manage now.”
He reached for the comb. “Please, Holly, let me help.”
“It’s Miss Carmichael to you, Mr. Stevens, and I can manage.” She tugged harder, her frustration growing by the second. Why wouldn’t he take the hint and go away?
Kyle stood there in silence for a long moment, his gaze never leaving the reflection in the mirror.
“What?” Holly demanded. “Why are you just standing there watching me? If I can change a clutch cable, I can comb a few knots out of my hair.”
Kyle’s tone was gentler than Holly deserved, especially after she’d just bitten his head off. “No, you can’t. Let me help.”
She took a deep breath, cheeks burning. A battle raged inside. Every fibre of her being screamed, run; but there was something about this man, something in his eyes that said, “trust me.” And she really wanted to.
Letting out the deep breath, she plumped for giving him a chance. “First, tell me why I should trust you with my hair?”
A smile lit his eyes, bringing out the hidden dimple in his cheek. “One, I’m a hairdresser—”
“A hairdresser?”
He ignored her. “One, I’m a hairdresser. Two, I promise, no hairspray. Three, I have to sit next to you, then dance with you and...”
She closed her eyes and let out a loud deep sigh, cutting him off. Were his motives purely selfish ones? What had she done to deserve this? So much for giving him a chance. The day was going from bad to worse. “What? You don’t want a scarecrow ruining your image?”
Kyle smiled, inclining his head a little. “Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of me ruining your image. The other option is that I mess my hair to match. May I?”
A faint smile crossed Holly’s lips. “Mess your hair up? Sure, go for it. We could start a new fashion, the scarecrow receiving line.”
“I meant...”
“I know what you meant.” Holly held out the comb. “Here; be my guest. It’s probably not possible to make it any worse.”
He laughed. “Want me to try?”
“Just try to fix it.” She paused. “Please.”
He smiled and took the comb. Holly closed her eyes as he worked on the knots. His touch was so gentle she had to open her eyes to make sure he was actually working. His gaze met hers in the mirror and his eyes sparkled as he studied her for a moment, before he looked back at the task in hand.
“Penny for them, Holly.”
Holly wished he’d stop using her name like that. He’d ignored her telling him not to do so. And it wasn’t just how it sounded falling from Kyle’s lips, either.
He’d done that, whispered her name in her ear as he hurt her, slowly cutting her with his knife. He’d made her name appear dirty, like an insult, while using it in an overly familiar way, as if he knew her. He’d taken so much from her, her self respect, her faith, her love for life, her ability to trust anyone, especially men. And he was still out there, somewhere.
Holly forced her mind back to the present. She looked up at Kyle. “You don’t look like a hairdresser.”
“No? And why’s that?”
“You’re too macho.” The words were out before she could stop herself. Her cheeks burned. A hand flew to her mouth and she gazed at him in horror, before looking down at the sink.
Kyle’s deep, unexpected laugh shattered the awkward silence. “You don’t seriously believe the myth about all male hairdressers batting for the other side, do you?” He paused. “Holly?”
Holly shrugged and raised her eyes. “You seem to believe that all mechanics are male.”
It was his turn to blush, and he pointed the comb at her. “Touché. And I don’t mean the turtle either.”
She smiled a little. “I used to love that program.”
“Me too. That and Secret Squirrel. I always wanted to be a secret agent.”
“I preferred Casey Jones.”
“Let me guess. You wanted to be a train driver.”
“Something like that, but I decided to fix cars, instead.” She shifted her stance a little then stood still so he could finish her hair.
After a few more moments, Kyle pinned the headdress back on. He rested his hands on her shoulders, smiling at her. “There. Perfect, even if I do say so myself.”
Holly pulled away from his all-too-intimate hold. “Don’t, please. Let go.”
He held his hands up. “What’s wrong? What did I do? Don’t you like it?”
She slid away from him. “Nothing...I...It’s fine, th-thank you.”
A gasp of shock came from behind them. Holly spun around and glanced up to see Stacey’s mother standing in the doorway. Heat flooded Holly’s face. She stumbled over a response, but Kyle got there first.
“Mrs. Jones, may I say how lovely you look today. You almost outshine the bride herself.” He winked at Holly, then breezed out of the room.
Holly put the comb back in her bag and headed towards the door, shaking all over. The last thing she wanted right now was to get into a discussion with Mrs. Jones on men in the ladies room.
“Holly, dear, are you all right?”
Holly turned to face her. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure, dear? You looked terrified.”
“I’m fine. He, uh, was fixing my hair for me.”
“In the ladies? You know how inappropriate that is. I expected
better of you. You don’t need your reputation ruined any more by chatting up men in the ladies room.”
Holly looked down. That wasn’t fair. She hadn’t asked for Kyle to follow her in here anymore than she’d asked to be attacked. “It wasn’t my idea; he followed me. I asked him to leave, several times, but he wouldn’t go.” Her protest sounded weak even to her.
Mrs. Jones looked stone-faced at her. Maybe a quick exit was called for. “I should go make sure Stacey’s OK.” Holly turned and ran from the room.
****
Kyle took his place in the receiving line. He’d messed up there somehow. Now he owed her another apology. Mrs. Jones obviously thought they were up to something. Although why anyone would think he’d pick the ladies toilet to chat someone up was beyond him. He glanced down the line. Holly wasn’t there yet, but Mrs. Jones was.
He slipped down a couple of places. “Can I have a quick word?”
“I’ve already given Holly a piece of my mind. Do I really have to lecture you, too?”
He shook his head. “It’s not what it looks like. The salon Holly went to this morning messed up her hair. She’s allergic to the spray they used. I was just trying to help her out a little. Make her more comfortable. I promise, there was nothing going on.”
“I see. I didn’t think it was like you. Or her for that matter. Despite her past, she’s always struck me as a nice girl.”
Kyle looked at her. “Oh?”
“She has a reputation for leading men on.” Mrs. Jones lowered her voice, as if she were divulging a secret.
“Even if she does, which I doubt, that isn’t a very nice thing to say.” Kyle gave her what he hoped was a withering look. It had the desired affect as Mrs. Jones immediately dropped the topic. “Just give her a break, please. It was my fault, not hers.”
“Very well.”
Kyle nodded and moved back to his place in the line.
Phil looked at him. “Everything OK?”
“Everything’s fine.” At least he hoped it was. Apologizing to Holly was getting to be a habit. He’d just not pick the ladies room to do it in this time. He noticed her join the receiving line and wondered if it was his fault she looked so pale and down, but then guests started up the line, and all thoughts of Holly were put on hold.
