by Noelle Adams
Fitz ate his chili and tried not to scowl as he watched her talk to him. She was always a straightforward person. She didn’t really know how to flirt. Fitz had always liked that about her. But she was coming as close to flirting as he’d ever seen her tonight. With Charles.
Who was definitely responding.
After a while, Matthew got up from where he was seated next to Skye and came over to sit on an ottoman next to Fitz. He murmured in a voice so low no one else could hear him, “You’re not doing a good job of hiding it.”
Fitz blinked and turned toward his friend. “What?”
“You need to hide it better. How much you don’t like that guy.”
“I don’t not like—” Fitz stopped himself. Why the hell was he even trying to argue?
Of course he didn’t like Charles, but it wasn’t anything to do with the man himself. And Matthew obviously knew it.
“Either make a move or let it go. Those are your only choices.”
Fitz knew he was right, but that didn’t mean he wanted to admit it. “You’re actually giving me advice on this? The guy who twiddled around for months before he could admit he’d fallen for Skye.”
Matthew just laughed. “Yes, I’m giving advice. I know better now, remember? And I don’t think I ever twiddled.”
“Oh yes, you did.”
“Well, then you know how stupid it is.”
Fitz sighed and glanced over toward Belinda. She must have been looking in his direction because her eyes moved quickly back toward Charles. “I can’t do anything,” he admitted.
Matthew nodded. He obviously wasn’t surprised. “Then let it go, man. Just let it go.”
Fitz took a slow, deep breath. “I know.”
He did know.
He’d been telling himself the same thing for years now. Years. He couldn’t have Belinda. He couldn’t even try for her even if there was the slightest chance that she might want him.
And he wanted her to be happy. Which meant he needed to make sure he did nothing more to get in the way of this thing she had going with Charles. If it worked out for her, then all the better. It might hurt like hell, but it would be good for him. He’d know for sure that she was forever off-limits.
He could stop clinging to threads of hope that would do nothing but snap and let him down.
No matter how much he might want her, Belinda would never be his.
“Shit,” Matthew breathed. “I’m sorry.” He must have seen some of Fitz’s inner struggle on his face.
Fitz cleared his throat. Cleared his face. Cleared the aching chaos of feeling from his mind. “Nothing to be sorry for. It’s all good.”
Matthew didn’t look like he believed him, but he didn’t argue at least. They both turned back to the conversation taking place on the other side of the room.
Ria was currently asking Charles about the charitable foundation that had bought Jacob’s grandfather’s old house, the one Charles and his sister were currently living in. “We’ve tried to research the foundation,” she was saying. “But all we get is a few pages of a website with the board members and some of the projects that the foundation has done. We don’t know anything about it. Or why they bought the house at all.”
“I don’t really know,” Charles said, clearly telling the truth. “A friend is on the board of the foundation and recommended the house to me when I was looking for a place to get away and write my book. My friend said another member of the board wanted to buy the house and fix it up, but he didn’t really know why. They must have some plans for it, but they’re not doing anything with it now. So I was able to rent it out. Since Ariana had a bad breakup and wanted to get away for a while too, she came with me.”
There was no way not to believe the man. He obviously had no further information he could offer the others about the foundation or the long-term plans for the house.
“I’m really glad they fixed the old place up,” Jacob said. “My grandpa loved that house. I would have hated to see it torn down or something, and I was afraid that was what was going to happen.”
“Do you know any more about the foundation?” Belinda asked. “The Sheffield Foundation. Who is Sheffield?”
“He was a rich guy. Inherited all his money from his father and grandfather, who made their fortune in real estate, I think. He and most of his family were killed in a plane crash a while back. And I guess all his money went into the foundation.” Charles looked polite but not particularly interested in this topic. “That’s all I know.”
“Oh, that’s terrible,” Belinda said, her eyebrows drawing together. “What plane crash?”
“I don’t know. I think it was a private plane. The family stayed out of the media spotlight, so they never got a lot of press.”
Belinda’s lips were still turned downward as the conversation moved on, as if she were still troubled by the tragic story.
Fitz tried not to look at her. Tried not to think about her. Tried not to want her.
Knew he’d have to try even harder.
IT WAS LATE THAT EVENING when Fitz returned to his place. He had just gotten ready for bed when his phone rang.
He didn’t use email, so the pay-as-you-go phone was his only means of contact. He liked it that way. Usually the only calls and texts he received were local—from folks in Azalea. But the number that flashed on the screen now wasn’t local.
Fitz knew who it was.
He stared at the phone for three rings before he finally picked it up. “Hey, Hal.”
“Hi, Fitz. I wasn’t sure if I’d catch you,” Hal Rayburn said.
“You did.”
“How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. Just fine. What about you?”
“Can’t complain.”
There was a slight pause on the line. Then Fitz prompted, “Did you need something?”
“Just checking in. It’s been a long time. Wanted to make sure you were still doing okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“And you still don’t want to come back home?”
“I am home. This is my home now.”
“I know after what happened, you needed to get away. But it’s been seven years now since... since everything. Your family wouldn’t have wanted this.”
Fitz’s throat hurt. So did his chest. “No. they would have wanted me to head up the company and keep multiplying the family fortune. But that’s not the life I want anymore. I know you don’t understand, but I’ve made my decision and I’m not going back. If you don’t want to manage the foundation, I can find someone else—”
“Of course I’m still going to manage it. Your dad was my best friend. But he’d want his son to be happy. So would your mom and sister.”
All three of them had died. His father, mother, and sister—as well as his sister’s boyfriend. In that private plane crash seven years ago. Fitz had been the only one not on the plane that day because he’d been buried in work and had backed out on the trip at the last minute.
“I am happy,” Fitz told Hal on the phone. “As happy as I’m going to get.”
“I did want to mention...”
“What?”
“I’m planning to retire next year. Near the end of the year probably.”
Fitz licked his lips, processing that piece of information. “I’m sorry the foundation will lose you, but you’ve put in a lot of years. You deserve to take it easy for a while.”
“That’s my plan. But I’ll need someone to take over for me.”
“Yes. Maybe you can help with the transition. I’m sure we can hire someone else to—”
“I was wondering if maybe you’d want to.”
Fitz grew still. Said nothing.
“I know you didn’t want to seven years ago, but a lot of time has gone by.”
“I told you I like it here.”
“You could stay there. You could do all the work from Virginia. You wouldn’t need to work from an office or keep a regular schedule or change your whole world. It’s your
family’s money. Don’t you want to see the good it does in the world?”
Fitz’s throat ached. So did his chest. He cleared his throat. “I don’t think so, Hal. I told you I didn’t want anything to do with it.”
“Yeah. I guess I was hoping that might have changed now that more time’s gone by. I know you’re afraid to live life again, but—”
“I’m not afraid. It’s just not what I want.”
Fitz was pretty sure Hal didn’t believe his abrupt declaration, but the other man didn’t argue at least. He shifted the topic. “And you really don’t want to do anything with that house in Azalea you had us buy and restore? I’ve got the renters in there now, but we could—”
“No. It’s good. Let them rent it as long as they want. There’s nothing we need to do with the house now. It belonged to a friend of mine. I just wanted to make sure it didn’t get torn down. I keep thinking he might want to buy it back one day, and I want to make sure it’s there for him if he does.”
Hal paused for several seconds. “That sounds almost sentimental. Are you finding your heart again?”
“It has nothing to do with my heart,” Fitz lied. “It’s just a thing I could do for a guy who’s done a lot to help me out. I know you feel responsible for me because you were friends with my dad, but you really don’t have to worry. I’m doing fine. I’m perfectly content. And this is the life I want now. Not my old one.”
“Okay,” Hal replied. “Do you have plans for the holidays? Because you could always—”
“I’m good. I never do much.”
“You shouldn’t spend Christmas alone. Don’t you have friends there?”
“I do. They have families. The Presbyterian church here has a Christmas Eve service. I see folks there, and I always see people around on the day. I’ve had six Christmases here already. I’m telling you. I’m good.”
“Okay.” Hal didn’t sound convinced, but at least he didn’t argue. “Just let me know if there’s anything else you want me or the foundation to do.”
“I will. Take care, Hal.”
Fitz hung up, feeling kind of shaky. He didn’t like to think of who he used to be—overworked, overstressed scion to a fortune. Son. Brother. He’d even had a girlfriend back then and had been thinking about taking the next step toward marriage.
He’d left all of it behind him when he moved to Azalea. It had felt like he was running from a tidal wave. He’d had to move fast enough and go far enough so all of what he’d left behind wouldn’t come crashing down on his head.
And now it was almost Christmas. He’d forgotten it was coming up. Normally it wouldn’t bother him, but he felt bleak and lonely this evening. He’d come to a conclusion he hated. He needed to give up even the most ephemeral hope of Belinda. Break the almost invisible threads that had tied him to her.
The only way to do that would be to avoid her for a while. Maybe that would be enough to slice through those threads of attachment.
He hadn’t realized how much those threads had shaped his world. Because Christmas—and all the long years that would follow it—now seemed utterly empty without her.
Four
BELINDA WAITED FOR the next three weeks to see if Charles would ask her out on a date.
He didn’t.
It was a little disappointing because every time they ran into each other naturally, he came over to talk with her, lingered in the conversation, and appeared to watch her admiringly. But he never asked her out. She wasn’t particularly surprised since that had been her experience with every other man she’d had interest in before.
And the truth was Belinda had a number of other things going on that distracted her from brooding too much about Charles.
For one thing, Ria and Jacob had their baby. The boy was more than a week late, and Ria’s labor was long and painful and stressful. But both Ria and little Luke were healthy and happy and back at home now just in time for Christmas.
The holidays were another thing dragging Belinda down. She tried to get into the spirit, decorating her house and even putting lights up outside, which she didn’t always do. She got a real Christmas tree instead of the small artificial one she usually used, and she baked cookies and wrapped presents and did her best to feel merry and bright.
She missed her parents though. Somehow more this year than usual. And Jacob and Ria were so busy and exhausted from the new baby that she couldn’t even spend as much time as usual with her sister. Everyone else had their own families and plans and activities.
Even Fitz had evidently forgotten she existed.
He hadn’t really spoken to her since the chili dinner at her place. She told herself it wasn’t personal, but it felt that way. She was so used to him always being around, making annoying comments and generally getting in her way. But he hadn’t done so for the past few weeks. Sometimes she’d see him in Anna’s or the flower shop, and he wouldn’t even glance her way.
It wasn’t as if she liked him. Or wanted him always invading her personal space.
Why did she miss him so much now that he’d backed off?
He must have seen something in her face that night when she’d had that bizarre and troubling desire to kiss him. He must have recognized it and was now trying to make sure it didn’t happen again.
He probably believed she was some sort of needy, pathetic object of pity—getting a ludicrous crush on an utterly unavailable man.
Belinda hated that thought—more than anything else—so she made sure to never initiate contact with him or even accidentally meet his eyes. He wasn’t going to think she was pining for him. Not if she had anything to say about it.
So all in all, Charles’s reluctance to ask her out was the least of her worries. She could think about him without wanting to curl up in a ball and cry.
On Christmas Eve, Belinda went to the service at the church her family had always attended. It was a lovely, quiet service with the candle lighting at the end. She sat next to Ria, Jacob, and chubby little Luke and enjoyed seeing her nephew, although Ria had to take him out twice when he started to cry.
Maybe because of that—or maybe because she’d be going home alone that evening—Belinda felt strangely isolated, even in a pew next to people she loved. Everyone else there was in large family groups—spouses, children, parents, cousins.
Everyone except Fitz. He was sitting alone in the back, which was where he always sat. He wore his Army jacket and hadn’t trimmed his hair or beard for the occasion, although it looked like he might have made some sort of effort to comb them down.
Belinda glanced back at him a couple of times during the service—despite her resolve not to give him any indication she cared about his comings and goings. Every time she looked, he seemed to know. He’d meet her eyes across the crowded sanctuary.
He saw her for the first time in weeks.
Ria and Jacob left a few minutes early because Luke started crying again. And when people started filing out of their seats, Belinda was so listless and lonely that she thought about going back to talk to Fitz. He was by himself tonight too. On Christmas Eve. He might appreciate someone saying hi to him even if it was only her.
But when she turned in his direction, she saw other people had had the same idea. Fitz was surrounded by others in the town, greeting him, wishing him a merry Christmas.
He didn’t need her. No one needed her. Charles and his sister weren’t even there tonight.
So Belinda just slipped out and went home.
She cried a little bit on the short drive back, but she pulled it together pretty quickly. She had nothing to feel sorry for herself about. She was cooking Christmas dinner tomorrow, and Ria, Jacob, and Luke were coming over so they wouldn’t have to worry about meal preparation in addition to their new baby. She wasn’t by herself for Christmas, and even if she were, it wasn’t the end of the world.
When she got home, it was just after eight. It was dark and wet and windy outside but not cold enough for snow. In an effort to feel better, she t
ook a bath and got into her favorite soft fleece pajamas. Then she made hot chocolate, picked out the best of her Christmas cookies, and curled up on the couch to watch an old Christmas musical.
It was a perfectly nice evening. It didn’t matter if she was all by herself. For almost an hour, the only interruption was a brief texted conversation with Ria, who was worried about her being alone and wanted her to come over to hang out. Belinda refused. Ria and Jacob would want to spend their first Christmas Eve with their son on their own, and they didn’t need the hassle of company. So she insisted she was having a great time by herself until Ria seemed to believe her.
If her mother and father were still alive, Belinda could have spent the evening with them. They’d only been in their fifties when they died. They’d had decades longer they should have lived. So many more Christmases they’d been cheated out of.
Belinda was tearing up again, despite her attempts not to, when there was suddenly a knock on her door. Startled and flustered by the unexpected sound, Belinda jumped up and turned toward the front door.
Then she realized who it probably was.
With a groan, she swung open the door, saying as she did, “Ria, I told you I’m perfectly fine on my—” She broke off midsentence when she saw who was standing on her front porch.
Not Ria.
Not anyone she would have expected.
Fitz. With his jacket pulled tight and his hair and beard all in disarray from the howling wind.
Belinda stared, completely incapable of speaking.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt your Christmas,” he began as soon as she’d gotten the door open, his eyes giving her an automatic assessment from the messy bun on top of her head to her fuzzy slippers. “But did you know that—?” He stopped and frowned. “Have you been crying?”
“No!” She swiped a stray tear away since it was offering evidence to the contrary of her claim. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” He was still peering at her face with disapproving concern, as if he had a problem with her current mood. “Did you know that you lost a tree branch out here? It took out part of the picket fence.”
