He stepped into the small foyer after her and brushed his shoes off on a rug that read “Mi Familia.”
My family.
His chest grew tight, but as soon as they stepped past the entryway and into the open living room/dining room/kitchen, he saw Dani stirring a pot at the stove, smiling at him over her shoulder. Next to her, sprinkling a green herb into the pot, was the tall, thin, gray-haired and gray-bearded man who’d kept Peyton from electrocuting himself last week. Uncle Jorge.
“We saw you on the doorbell cam,” she said.
Peyton nodded. “So I hear.”
Miranda strolled into the kitchen brandishing the bottle of wine.
“And he brought us a sauvignon blanc, mija. Your favorite,” she said.
Peyton shook his head and chuckled. Casey was either rooting for him or figured he’d probably take a nosedive at some point during the evening, so why not at least start off on the right foot?
“How’d you know?” she asked, taking the bottle from her mom and pulling a corkscrew from a drawer.
He shrugged. “Lucky guess?” Then he reached over the island and shook the older man’s hand. “Jorge. Good to see you again.”
“Mayor Cooper,” Jorge said with a smile. “You haven’t found any more exposed wires I should know about, have you?”
He laughed and shook his head. “No, sir. But I promise not to touch them if I do. And I’d love it if you all called me Peyton,” he said. “Unless we’re in my office, I’m just—me, I guess.”
“Okay, Peyton,” Jorge said, then he followed Miranda to the refrigerator where they worked in tandem pulling out plated vegetables and cheeses and lining them up on the counter.
“What about Coop?” Dani asked with a coy smile, her cheeks turning pink. She looked down after that, focusing on filling the four stemless wine glasses in front of her until the bottle was empty.
He rounded the island and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He kissed her softly on the cheek.
“I think we should save that one just for you,” he said so only she could hear.
She sucked in a breath and he straightened, clearing his throat.
“Peyton!” Miranda said. “I got so caught up in the doorbell excitement that I didn’t even take your coat.”
Peyton realized he still had his down vest on over his navy wool sweater and plaid button-down. He handed Miranda a glass of wine and smiled.
“No worries. I can hang it myself. Just point me in the right direction.”
The woman beamed. “The closet is right next to the front door.”
He headed back to the front of the house and quickly deposited his vest. He paused, though, when he noticed the wall of photos opposite the closet. Dani and her sister, Julia, through the years, from childhood to adulthood, including what he guessed was Dani’s first day as a deputy sheriff, standing so proud in her uniform and seemingly trying not to smile too big. There were family photos, too, some of just Miranda and the girls. Some with Jorge. There was even one of Dani and her parents at the hospital when Julia was born. She couldn’t have been more than two.
Peyton thought about the blank walls at his family’s home, wondered if when the place was finished he’d be able to go through the boxes of what he’d packed away from his parents’ condo in Chicago and fill the walls with memories that now might be too painful to bear.
“Hey.” Dani popped her head around the corner, then made her way to where he stood with two glasses of wine.
“Is one of those for me?” he asked, deflecting with humor like he’d grown accustomed to doing.
“Nah,” she said. “I’m really thirsty.” Then she laughed and handed a glass to him. “Everything okay?” she asked, nodding toward the picture-covered wall. “Mami always did go overboard with the photos.”
“I’m good,” he said, then took a sip of wine. “But there’s something I forgot to tell you when I first got here. It’s pretty important. Could change everything between us.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “And what’s that?”
He dipped his head and kissed her, and he felt her lips part into a smile against his.
“That,” he said, their lips still touching.
She laughed, and he kissed her once more before straightening and taking another sip of his wine.
“You’re right,” she said. “You should have been up-front about that from the beginning.”
He clinked his glass against hers. “I’m glad we cleared that up.”
She smiled. “Come on. My mom and Uncle Jorge made entirely too much food, so prepare to leave here tonight with enough leftovers to last you through Christmas.”
“Is that a promise?” he asked. “You’ve seen my fridge. I need all the help I can get.”
They laughed together on their way back to the kitchen, and any nerves he felt about the evening fell away.
“Okay,” Miranda said, walking toward them with a small basket in her hands. “Food is ready, which means phones go in the basket.”
Dani slid her phone from her back pocket and deposited it in the basket.
“House rules,” she said to Peyton. “Only face-to-face conversation at the table.” Then she gave her mother a pointed look. “That means you too. No peeking at the doorbell cam every time Trudy Davis walks by with one of her dogs or an Amazon delivery person stops by.”
She stood on her toes and whispered in Peyton’s ear. “My mom has an online shopping problem. I try to explain the importance of buying local, but the woman just loves her Prime.” Dani was loud enough for Miranda to hear. Likely on purpose.
Peyton stifled a laugh while the older woman gave her daughter a light smack against the shoulder. “Hey. At least I’m not bidding half a week’s worth of pay on some life-sized Christmas ornament that will never fit on the back of that motorcycle.”
“She can use my truck,” Jorge called from the kitchen.
“Life-sized ornament?” Peyton asked.
“Shhh, Mami. It’s supposed to be a secret. You think I want the whole town knowing?” She nodded toward Jorge. “And that goes for you, too, Mr. Town Tattler. This is between me, the artist, and the Sheriff’s Department. Everyone else will find out on Christmas Eve.”
Peyton took his phone from his pocket as well and dropped it into the waiting basket.
“Hey,” he said. “Same model.”
“I know,” Dani started. “Got them mixed up this morning when they were still on the fl—” She stopped short before finishing the sentence, and Peyton bit back another laugh.
When our phones were on the floor where we took off all our clothes in front of the fireplace last night?
Yeah, that probably wasn’t how they should start the predinner conversation.
Miranda narrowed her dark brown eyes at them before turning to Jorge and asking for his phone.
“Smooth,” Peyton whispered.
Dani snorted. “It’s not like she doesn’t know. I just don’t need it to be family dinner fodder.”
Peyton kissed her on the nose and set his glass on the table so he could help carry crocks of soup and trays of food to the table.
Dani was right. Her mom had prepared a veritable feast. But his full belly was nothing compared to the fullness of his heart—or at least the feeling that the pieces of it that had been torn or cracked were finally starting to mend.
After dinner, Miranda put the coffee on while Jorge got a fire going in the living room.
“You didn’t bring in the new logs,” he called to whoever would listen.
“I got ’em,” Peyton said on his way into the living room. “Just tell me where they are.”
“Piled on the right side of the house—right side if you’re facing the front door, I mean. Left when you’re walking out the door.”
He nodded at Jorge. “I’m on it. Back in a minute.”
Peyton didn’t bother grabbing his vest from the closet but instead bounded out the door, making sure not to pull
it all the way shut, then off the porch and to the left. But there was no pile of wood. He laughed and followed the perimeter of the house, through the small backyard, and around to the other side of the house—where he found the stack of firewood. He grabbed enough for at least the next three nights so Miranda wouldn’t have to carry any more in before Christmas. When he got back to the front door, he nudged it open and then closed again with his hip and strode straight into the living room to set it all down.
“That should hold you until the holiday,” he said, brushing off his hands and sweater. It was only when he was rid of the firewood that he noticed Jorge wasn’t waiting for him by the fireplace.
Peyton spun toward the kitchen where Miranda and Jorge stood behind the island, their expressions unreadable. That was—odd. But Dani walking toward him with her phone in her hand and a stricken expression on her face? That was—unsettling. And maybe a little scary. Because he’d seen Deputy Dani Garcia fired up with anger before, but that wasn’t what this was. She’d been hurt, and as soon as he found out who’d done it, he was going to make sure whoever it was never hurt her again.
“Dani, what—”
“Here,” she said, holding out the phone in her hand. “I accidentally answered it. Guess we also have the same ringtone. The Stranger Things theme music.” She let out a bitter laugh. “I didn’t even know you liked the show. And I also didn’t know you were interviewing for a position in the mayor’s office in Chicago. The woman who called wants to know if eight in the morning California time works for you on the twenty-sixth. She said if the answer is yes to just text the word yes to the number she called from. If the answer is no, then she said there’d be no interview.”
Her voice was cool and steady, but her clenched jaw and glassy eyes said everything she couldn’t. That he was the one who hurt her.
“Dani,” he started, not reaching for the phone but for her hand. Her cheek. Some part of her that he could touch to let her know it wasn’t what she thought, even though it was pretty much exactly what she thought.
She brandished the phone at him.
“Take it,” she said. So he did, slipping it into his pocket. “I asked you if our relationship was a temporary thing for you, and you said no,” she added.
“It’s not,” he said. “I hadn’t even gotten the interview yet when I told you that, and I meant it. But when you get a call from one of the biggest offices in local government because even after you messed up, they still think you’re the man for the job, you schedule the interview. Just to see.”
She swiped at a tear under her eye, but her expression wasn’t one of pain or sadness anymore. It was fury.
“Is that why you showed up at the sheriff’s office yesterday talking about all you were going to do to fix up our department? Was that going to be your parting gift?” She blew out a breath but didn’t give him any room to protest or explain. “I asked you about our relationship two nights ago. When did you get the call?”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
“Dani,” he said carefully. “You have to understand that I didn’t come here looking for a reason to stay. But when you walked into my office earlier in the week and then showed up on my property Thursday night, I thought that maybe the universe or whoever’s in charge was starting to see things differently for me. Because it sent me you.”
“When, Peyton?” she asked again, arms crossed over her chest. “When did you agree to the interview?”
He blew out a breath. “Right after you left Thursday night.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded. Then she spun on her heel and marched toward the front door, stopping to yank his down vest out of the closet.
“You need to go,” she said, holding out the vest.
He turned toward Miranda and Jorge, his eyes pleading with theirs. Jorge shrugged, and Miranda just shook her head.
“So that’s it?” he said, striding toward her. “I don’t get to explain how hard it was to come back here without them? Or how you are the only one who made it bearable? I don’t get a second to be confused about what I want or whether or not this thing between us is forever when it started less than a week ago? I lost my job when I missed a meeting with a fund-raiser because I ran late making preparations for my own parents’ cremation—a meeting that cost the board tens of thousands of dollars. I thought I tanked my career, Dani. So when I got the call…I felt like I’d have to be an idiot to say no.”
She was still holding the vest, a tear leaking out the corner of each eye.
She closed the distance between them, pressing the garment to his chest.
“I’m sorry, Peyton. I’m so sorry for what happened to your parents and how hard the last year has been for you. But you’re obviously not ready to make promises to me or to this town, and I don’t fault you for that. I just—I can’t get left again. It’ll hurt too much if we let ourselves get any more attached, so let’s just forget this week ever happened, okay?”
She let go of the vest so that he had to grab it before it dropped to the floor, so that he wouldn’t be able to reach for her before she reached for the door and held it open for him.
“Just like that?” he asked. “After fifteen years?”
She sniffled and squared her shoulders. “For fifteen years a part of me pined and wondered, and now I have my answer. At least we both have closure now, right?”
He leaned down and kissed her warm, tear-streaked cheek.
“I’ve meant every word I’ve said to you the past few days,” he whispered. “Don’t put more weight on what I didn’t say.”
He stepped over the threshold and out the door, waiting for a beat when it didn’t slam shut behind him. But then he heard it, the click of the dead bolt into the doorframe.
He turned to face the door.
Closure.
He pulled out his phone, copied the number from his recently received call, and pasted it into the contact box in his texting app, responding as requested, with one. Single. Word.
Chapter Eleven
Peyton called her on Sunday morning, but Dani sent it right to voice mail. He didn’t leave a message. She watched out the window of the Sheriff’s Department for him to come bounding down the town hall steps—so she could avoid him, of course—but he never came.
He waited until that night, showing up at her apartment on Casey’s one night off. When she saw him through the peephole, she had her roommate answer the door and tell him that Dani was spending the night at her mom’s house.
Dani wasn’t spending the night at her mom’s house.
Now she was glued to her laptop at 9:57 a.m. on Monday morning, December 23, ready to win the auction for the life-sized ornament so she could dive back into what should have been her sole purpose all along—winning the lights parade for the Sheriff’s Department.
Not that it was a competition. Except it sort of was.
“He looked like shit, you know,” Casey said, pouring them both another cup of coffee. “Your Mr. Mayor.”
Dani took a sip of her coffee, which was suddenly harder to swallow than the last mug had been.
“Just say it,” Dani said. “You think I’m being too hard on him.”
Casey lifted her own mug, held it in front of her lips, but paused. “I think you’re being too hard on him.”
Dani groaned. “He’s interviewing for a job in Chicago. Chi-ca-go.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Casey said. “Is he though? Maybe he thought about it. Considered it. But are you sure he’s going through with it?”
Dani sighed. “I’m sure he agreed to that interview after he told me I wasn’t a temporary thing. And that just…”
“It sucks,” Casey said. “I know it sucks. But maybe if you hear him out—”
Dani held up a hand. “Hang on. There’s less than a minute left.” She upped her bid by fifty bucks, so that she was now in the hole for $575, but in less than thirty seconds, the ornament would be hers.
She set a timer on her phone and w
atched it count down.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Another bid popped up for $576.
Two.
One.
Auction now closed to bids.
“What?” she cried out, her voice rising at least an octave. Maybe two. “A dollar? With two seconds to go? Who does that? Who did that, because…What?”
Casey leaned over the table to peek at Dani’s laptop.
“Yep. You got your ass handed to ya. But look on the bright side. You just saved almost $600.” She sat back down on her chair, eyes wide. “Wait, you were going to spend six hundred bucks on an ornament?”
Dani clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes at her roommate.
Casey laughed and held up her hands.
“Okay. Okay. I won’t poke the bear. Even if it’s a little fun. But now that the bidding war is over, maybe we can get back to…you know…the mayor stuff?”
Dani stared at the screen, at the one shred of something she’d had to look forward to for the holidays, and threw her hands in the air.
“I give up,” she said.
“On Peyton?” Casey asked.
“On all of it. On being naive enough to think it was safe to fall for him. On believing this would be the year the Sheriff’s Department won the lights parade.”
“Not a contest,” Casey interrupted, but Dani waved it off.
“I give up on thinking this Christmas would knock all the others out of the park,” Dani added. “I’ve been trying for fifteen years to make every Christmas for my family better than the last so we’re not reminded of how much it sucked when my dad left. But you know what? I’m done. I’m officially boycotting any and all Christmas activities from here on out.” She slammed her laptop shut, grabbed her coffee, and stood. “I’m going to take a nap,” she said. “Wake me on the twenty-sixth.”
A Little Country Christmas Page 18
