Tangled Up in Christmas

by Jones, Lisa Renee

  I don’t know how it happens, but some of the ice around my heart melts, and Roarke and I smile at each other. And my God, I feel that moment. I still feel him. No wonder I have no social life. I never got over this man, and that statement has so many layers, and they aren’t the kind that keep you from eating a cake. They’re the kind that drag you into the mud and you can’t stop sinking.

  That’s when the sudden explosion of what looks like white snow all around us, followed by the flash of cameras, jerks me out of the world where, for a few moments, it was just me, him, and the stallion. “Did you get that?” Jessica shouts at someone. “Tell me you got that.”

  “I got it!” Liz shouts. “That snow was brilliant!”

  “Me, too!” Mike chimes in. “That’s a great Christmas promo shot for the camp! What a great idea, Jessica.”

  Jessica steps to my side, glowing with her brilliance. “They had it in some party room,” she says, “and I thought: we’re having a festival at the holidays. A Christmas festival would be magical. That means we can’t pass up a shot with snow on the baseball field.” She laughs. “Who cares if it’s Texas and it barely ever snows? It’s all about the kids and the holidays.”

  I glance around at the little beads of white all over the field and then at her. “I think the idea was to get the shot with Roarke, though. Is there more of that material I can use to shoot with him alone?”

  “Are you kidding me?” she asks, moving closer. “That was incredible, too magical for a do-over. Did you and Roarke train the horses together back in the day?”

  “Yes,” I say. “We did.”

  Roarke dismounts and joins us. “Old habits don’t die,” he says, giving me a nudge.

  “I had no idea you two knew each other this well,” Jessica says. “I mean I guess I should have. Sweetwater is a small town.”

  “He babysat me and made me clean horse poop,” I say. “Needless to say, I have a lot of shit memories.” I glance up at him. “But I still like the horses.”

  Jessica glances between us. “Well, you two are pretty magical together. I couldn’t stop watching you. I think this is all going to come together beautifully.”

  Someone shouts for Roarke, and he glances over his shoulder and back. “Are you done with me?” he asks. “I need to manage the horses.”

  “Yes,” I say without looking at him. “I am.”

  “Me, too,” Jessica says. “Dinner tonight, Roarke. Eddie V’s. Eight o’clock.”

  “Got it,” he says, giving a nod and disappearing from our little circle. He doesn’t speak to me. It bothers me, and I hate that it bothers me.

  “Can you join us for dinner?” Jessica asks. “We can game-plan the campaign and then set up a time for you to come see the camp and shoot there?”

  Dinner and more Roarke. No. No, I can’t do that. I have to say no. I can’t say no. “I, ah—yes,” I say. “Sure. Dinner. Great.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “Is the ‘shit’ between you and Roarke a problem?”

  My eyes meet hers, and I breathe out. “No. I’ve shoveled enough shit in my life to know how to put it in a box and leave it alone so that it doesn’t stink things up.”

  “Good. I’m super excited about your involvement.” She hugs me. She’s a hugger, which is fine. This is Texas, not the L.A. fashion business, where a touch became a grope far too often. It’s interesting to be back in the world of old but not the old me. “I’ll text you the restaurant address,” she says, and with that, she hurries away. I can’t help myself—I turn, my gaze seeking the man who might have been my husband, just in time to watch him disappear off the field with a horse. My heart squeezes just thinking about those shared moments with him today. Maybe we can be friends or maybe that would kill me, but I’m an adult. He’s an adult. We can make this situation work. I hurry forward toward the exit, and suddenly, my foot has squished in something, something extraordinarily gross.

  I look down, and my foot is in horse shit, Roarke’s horse’s shit. Somehow, this feels like a teaching moment. I need to remember the past. I need to remember that even gorgeous beasts have a shitty side.

  Chapter Six

  Roarke…

  I manage to get away from the stadium without questions I’m not in the mood to answer, but they’re inevitable. They’re coming. Which is exactly why I enter the hotel I’m staying in and head for the bar, a cozy dim-lit spot with lots of leather and wood, otherwise known as my safe place. There’s also a staff member putting up a tree in the corner, because apparently no one believes Halloween is a holiday, like I do. It’s also Hannah’s birthday. And obviously, the Irish whiskey in my hand intended to whisper sweet nothings in my ear and calm my nerves isn’t working. Hannah’s on my mind, and the past is burning a hole in my belly. All I see is her beautiful face framed by all that long brown hair, while her bright-green eyes bleed from the pain I’ve caused her.

  “Somehow I knew I’d find you here.”

  At the sound of Jason’s voice, I glance to my left to find him claiming the stool next to me. “I thought you’d be with your fiancée at that fancy apartment you rented for the season.”

  “It’s next door,” he says. “You didn’t really think you’d escape me by hiding out here, did you?” He motions to the bartender and points to my drink, holding up two fingers, before he adds, “I didn’t even bother to go to your room.”

  “You didn’t get enough of me at the announcement?”

  “Nope,” he says, accepting the drink set in front of him and taking a sip, while I down the rest of mine to be ready for the refill. “You were occupied by Hannah.” He glances over at me. “What did I miss? Because when I left for college, she was a kid, and there was nothing between you two.”

  I cut my stare and sip from my whiskey. “The summer I finished med school, I came home and so did she. At that point, she was twenty-one and I was twenty-seven. She was all grown up.”

  “And?”

  I glance over at him. “We came together hard and fast, no looking back, or so I thought. She was trying to launch her photography career while helping me with the animals. She traveled with me. She took every opportunity to fill her portfolio with damn good work.”

  “Of the horses?”

  “Of everything, but the animals, the horses, they were her ticket to success, I thought. Of course, she ended up in fashion of all things.” I cut my gaze. “We were engaged.”

  “Holy hell,” Jason says, knocking on the bar. “How the hell do I not know any of this?”

  I shrug. “You were having that shit season you had and on the road. I would have told you when you got a break. I just never got the chance. We ended badly.”

  “Define badly?”

  “I loved her.”

  “Holy Mother of God,” he says. “That’s not an answer, but it’s a wake-up call for me on where we’re at on this. You’ve never said that about any woman.”

  “Because they weren’t Hannah.”

  “And yet you let her go?”

  “She thinks I cheated,” I say. “I didn’t. She wouldn’t listen.”

  “Why?”

  “Too hurt. Too emotional. Too ready to run.”

  “Sounds about right for Hannah. She recoiled when things went badly for her. Not to mention, she was always stubborn.”

  “Yeah,” I say, offering nothing more, even though there is more. There’s a reason I didn’t fight harder to prove her wrong, and Jason’s father was involved in ways Jason doesn’t know about, and I’m not telling him, either. His father is dead. His mother is dead. It’s taken him three years to get back on the mound and start living again. I take another drink.

  “I didn’t know, man,” he says, “or we wouldn’t have set her up for this job, but I hate to pull it from her. I get the impression she really needs this launch for her business. Hell, I think we need her to launch
this camp. She knows us. She knows our town.”

  “She does and we do. I don’t want her to lose the job,” I say. “I’ll keep my personal business with Hannah personal and at a later date.”

  “You’re going to have to talk this out and clear the air.”

  “And I will. When the time is right. There are things I need to say to Hannah and some things I’ll never say to her, but I won’t risk making things worse. It’s waited years. It can wait a little longer. Hell, maybe it can all wait forever. She hates me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you. I could see that even from a distance. She’s hurt. She’s not recoiling any longer, but she’s still protecting herself. Don’t wait. Fix it.”

  Fix it.

  If only it were that easy, but it’s not. Because this is about more than me being set up with Hannah to look like I cheated. This is about my father’s connection to her father and how her family ended up in ruins.

  Chapter Seven

  Hannah…

  I part ways with Linda’s staff at the stadium and hit a drive-through nearby, where I order a large fry and a chocolate shake—comfort food—which is necessary at the moment. It’s also a perk of being out of the fashion industry, where everything that went into one’s mouth was judged. I hated that part of that world. Honestly, I hated a lot of that world, except for learning from an amazing photographer. And the clothes. I did love the clothes.

  While waiting on my order, I try to call Linda, who doesn’t answer. Why did I agree to dinner tonight? Why? Eddie V’s is ridiculously expensive, and that’s not the only thing expensive tonight. The emotional baggage I lug with me while Roarke is around comes with a price, and it’s not cheap.

  My order is ready, and I pull onto the road, throwing enough salt on the fries to salt a small town before testing my shake. It’s vanilla. Ugh. I do not need anything new that is vanilla in my life right now. That’s pretty much the excitement level of where I’ve landed: vanilla. Some might find a vanilla existence a safe, comfortable one, but I don’t. Roarke sure doesn’t, either. He’s gone from veterinarian to Horse Wrangler and baseball coach. There’s nothing vanilla about that man, and clearly, one woman was too vanilla to fit his lifestyle.

  Thanks to the Dallas traffic, I have an hour on the highway to think about that fact and every moment with Roarke at the event today. He made me perform with him, and that was all about trying to remind me that we were good together. Or I think it was; I feel it was. He wants to just forget the past. That’s not going to happen. I might be vanilla, but I am not a fool. I was never a fool, which is why I walked away.

  By the time I head into my new loft-style apartment a few blocks from my new office in Linda’s space, I’m starting to worry about her. What if the break was bad? What if she needed surgery? Because I only have about forty-five minutes to shower, dress, and get back on the road, I leave her an urgent message and climb into the shower.

  Thirty minutes later, I’ve managed to shower, dry my hair, and do my makeup. Another ten minutes later, and I’ve tried on five outfits. I’m back to just my underwear and a bra when Linda calls. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

  “Ugh,” she murmurs, sounding drugged. “I broke my leg, and my blood sugar and blood pressure are off the charts. They say it’s the pain, but I don’t know. I might have diabetes. I’m trying not to be depressed. No chocolate? No cake? No donuts? I think I might rather die.”

  “Does it run in your family?”

  “Yes, it does. I’m screwed, which is why I panicked and why they drugged me and I’ve been knocked out. I’m going to be here at least overnight. I’d ask how the shoot went, but I can’t seem to care right now.”

  “It went well, and I booked a job organizing Jason’s new kids camp, which I can explain later. I got the job because of you, so we can split the fees. I’m meeting them for dinner, or I’d be there with you.”

  “Nonsense,” she says. “You take care of business and you keep the business. You saved my ass today, and I want you to stay in Dallas. Keep the job to launch your company.” She groans. “I’m hurting. I need to go. I’ll torture you with questions at some point, I’m sure. Just not now. Kisses.” She hangs up.

  I grimace, worried about her, and decide I need to be at the hospital first thing tomorrow morning. For now, I refocus on the outfits on my bed. The burgundy dress is pretty, but it feels like I’m trying to impress Roarke. I am most definitely not trying to impress that man. The black dress pants and emerald green tank win.

  …

  I arrive at the restaurant just on time and check in with the hostess, who immediately leads me through the dimly lit space. Our destination is a private room in the back of the dining area with sliding wooden doors, allowing privacy. The hostess opens one door for me, and I slip inside, only to have the entire room pause in conversation to stare at me, but I see just one person. Roarke is directly across from me, next to an empty seat. My seat that will be between him and Jessica.

  “She’s here!” Jessica exclaims. “So happy you made it.” She pushes to her feet, looking lovely in a pink dress. In a few steps, she’s hugging me, and Lord help me, my eyes meet Roarke’s over her shoulder. The connection punches me in the chest, and I quickly lower my lashes, fearing he’ll spy my reaction. Fearful I’ll hand him that power.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Jessica says, pulling back to look at me. “Because the food is so darn good here.”

  “Starving, and I haven’t been to Eddie V’s in nearly a decade.”

  “Well then, let’s order,” Jason chimes in. “Welcome, Hannah.”

  Jessica releases me, and I suddenly realize that the table is for four. There are only four of us. Jessica and Jason and Roarke and me. My God, how had this happened? Jason and I exchange hellos before I head to the opposite side of the table. Roarke stands to pull out my chair, and I let him. What am I supposed to do? Kick him in the shin? That would be satisfying but unprofessional. I’m not unprofessional.

  Once I’m settled in my seat, my purse on the arm of the chair, the waiter is immediately by my side asking for my drink order. “We opened a bottle of wine,” Jason offers. “Help us indulge?”

  “Yes please, but a small glass,” I say. “I have a decent drive home, and I’m not what you would call a good drinker.” It’s a statement that slips out before I considered the first time I slept with Roarke was after consuming a bottle of wine.

  I swallow hard and focus on the waiter, who fills my glass, a long pour that should be short. I need the long pour, though. I’ll take it. I sip the sweet red liquid and then drink deeper. I’m aware that I haven’t looked at Roarke. I’m fairly certain we’re all aware that I haven’t looked at Roarke. Jason’s cell phone rings, and he glances at the caller ID and then leans in to whisper to Jessica.

  Roarke leans closer to me, a spicy masculine scent teasing my nostrils. It’s not the same cologne he used to wear. Good. I don’t need any more reminders of the past. “Is this how we’re going to do this?” he asks softly.

  I inhale a small breath and then set my glass down. “I’m certain I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You haven’t even looked at me since you sat down, Hannah.”

  Steeling myself for the impact, I cut my stare and meet his eyes, the punch of awareness between us trembling through me, but it means nothing. It’s not a mutual feeling. It’s simply his impact on me and who knows how many other women. “Happy now?”

  “Not for a very long time,” he says, and before I can question that statement, the waiter returns to take our orders.

  I try to get away with a salad and potato, but Roarke isn’t having it. “I know how you love a good steak.” He eyes the waiter. “Rib eye, well done, no pink or she’ll send it back.”

  I want to reject the order, but I can’t. I don’t eat meat that has any pink at all. Jason laughs. “Because she got so damn attac
hed to the animals,” Jason teases before he and Jessica order, but that distraction doesn’t last. Jason comes right back to the topic at hand. “There was this one cow,” he tells Jessica.

  I wave a fork at Jason. “Don’t go where you’re about to go.”

  “Bessie,” Roarke supplies. “She named her Bessie and—”

  I whirl on him. “You need to stop. Stop talking about Bessie. That has nothing to do with how I eat my steak.”

  Roarke laughs, a deep rumble of sexy laughter. “We better stop, Jason,” he says, but he’s looking at me. “She didn’t eat meat for a year after naming that cow.”

  He’s trying to remind me of just how well he knows me, but he knows less than he thinks he does, just as I knew less of him than I thought I did. “You save animals. How does it not bother you to save one and eat it the next minute?”

  “I don’t eat the animals I save, and animals help us understand the food chain.”

  “Okay, no steak for me,” I say. “Seriously. That will be wasted money.” The waiter pokes his head in the door, scanning the table to check on us. I lift my hand. “Can you cancel my steak? Just a salad and a potato.” I have a quick conversation about my order, and as soon as that’s behind me, I down a big swallow of wine. “Tell me about the festival,” I say. “It sounds exciting.”

  “Yes,” Jessica says. “Let’s talk about the festival. I think it has to be a one-day event because Sweetwater can’t handle a crowd of overnight visitors. In general, that’s an issue. We’re building cabins for the campers on the ranch.”

  “Wait,” I say, my voice coming out rather choked, while my pulse is now thundering in my ears. “The festival is in—it’s in Sweetwater?”