How Sweet It Is

by Wendy Vella

  “You’re the one from New York who wants him to sign something?”

  Buster snorted at the look of surprise on Willow’s face. “No secrets here, honey. If you want to keep something to yourself, then never tell anyone, and that includes your closest friends. They’re the worst gossips in the bunch. In fact, don’t even repeat it out loud. Someone’s bound to hear.”

  She lowered her eyes briefly, and Buster wondered what he’d said. Maybe it was the “friend” comment. He wondered if she had any close friends, because she’d only ever come to the Gryphon alone.

  “So, Macy said you’re staying at the cabin, and that you’re here to help with the tree. Go change and we’ll get into it,” Branna said.

  Buster watched Willow look down at her clothes before shaking her head. “I really can’t stay, but thank you for inviting me. I’ll just get those keys and leave you all to do the tree.”

  Before Branna could stop her, Willow had slipped out the door.

  “What’s her deal?” Branna asked.

  “I don’t know her deal.” Buster pulled out a plate from Macy’s cupboard, then got the pineapple layer cake with Tex’s icing out of the container and slid it onto the plate. “You know as much as I do. I’ve already told your husband and anyone else who was listening, and I’m sure they’ve already passed on to you that we never spoke in New York other than ‘hello’, ‘goodbye’ and ‘here’s your order’.”

  “That’s strange, though, Buster, even for someone who’s not big on chit-chat. I mean, you don’t seem comfortable with gossip, but more often than not you have the latest on people.”

  “New York is not Howling, Bran. Give me a break. I didn’t have a whole passel of friends out there like I do here.”

  “Do you know, I don’t think I’ve heard the word ‘passel’ used since I was a child.”

  Buster rolled his eyes.

  “Jake said you weren’t very nice to Willow, and I may not know her, or for that matter know if I like her, but I know you, and that’s not like you, Buster.”

  Buster raised his gaze to the ceiling. “I liked you better when you were quiet and withdrawn.”

  Her laugh was accompanied by a pat on the shoulder before she took the cake plate and walked out, leaving Buster to lower his head to the table and bang it slowly.

  As he’d expected, they had intercepted Willow by the time he arrived in the room. She was putting up arguments, but he knew his friends. They would override every one, and she’d stay and help with the tree.

  “Once I’ve settled my things in the cabin, I have work to do, and then I’ll head to The Howler for a meal,” Willow was saying as she walked backwards.

  Her glasses were halfway down her nose again. Her eyes were wide and she looked almost fearful. She seemed a million miles from the confident, immaculate, and untouchable woman he’d known…or not known, as the case might be. It was as if the prospect of spending time with his friends was terrifying her, instead of sounding like fun, which he knew it could be—as well as comforting, supportive, and all the things this group of people was to him.

  He couldn’t remember Jessica ever being frightened of anything, so maybe Willow was different from her in some ways. He’d seen a few glimpses of the vulnerability that he’d suspected she had in New York, but her business persona was the same as his ex’s. Succeed no matter who you had to stomp over to achieve the desired results.

  “You don’t celebrate Christmas, Willow?” Annabelle asked. She’d just arrived with the Texan and young Mikey Tucker. Tall and elegant, with a bone structure women would pay thousands for, she had golden brown hair and brown eyes that were lit with sass and intelligence.

  Willow shook her head at the question.

  “What, never?” Mikey said, looking at her wide-eyed.

  Buster and his friends looked out for the boy, watching over him when his grandmother couldn’t, but it was Branna and Jake he loved the most. Stick-thin, his hair standing off his head (which suggested it hadn’t seen a brush), Mikey Tucker was wearing a sweater that hung to his knees and was rolled up three times at the cuffs.

  “We didn’t…my family.” Willow had reached the hall that led to the front door, but as Tex was coming up behind her, her escape route was blocked.

  “I’m Annabelle,” Annabelle said, sticking out a hand that Willow reluctantly took.

  “Willow Harper.”

  “Yeah, you’re the woman from New York who wants Buster to sign something, right?”

  Willow shot Buster a look, and he gave her an I told you so look in return.

  “Well, now, honey, I understand not everyone celebrates Christmas, and to each their own, I always say.” Tex had his hand on her shoulder now. He wrestled the coat from her grasp and threw it over the nearest chair as he gently nudged her back into the room.

  Buster wondered how Willow had grown up. He’d had her down as coming from an upper-class New York family with plenty of money, and having a private school education.

  “When do you say that?” Annabelle demanded. “I can’t remember a time when you’ve let anyone have an opinion that’s not the same as yours.”

  “Now, you don’t mean that, sweetheart. Why, just this morning I said I wanted my eggs fried, and yet we settled on scrambled because that was your preference.”

  Buster watched as Tex and Annabelle continued to debate the issue as he nudged Willow closer to Macy, who in turn picked up several shiny balls and handed them to her, then pointed to the tree. Willow had the bemused look of a person who was unsure what the hell had just happened. Her gaze was shooting around the room as everyone started to add something to the conversation going on between Annabelle and the Texan while starting another with someone else. Having experienced that for years, Buster just rolled with it. He knew for some people it took a while to adjust to the level of noise and abuse they were throwing at each other, and while he didn’t know much about Willow, he guessed she was someone who wasn’t used to this kind of scene.

  “You got a theme going here, Macy?”

  Newman was behind the tree, so when he spoke it looked like the tree was talking.

  “Nope. Just throw those suckers up there, Newman.”

  Willow’s body stiffened, and Buster could imagine her struggling with not having order. The prospect of “just throwing those suckers” on the tree wasn’t sitting well. In her hands, the bright, shiny balls were in danger of shattering as her fingers clenched. Around her, his friends were dressed in various modifications of their usual uniform of jeans and a sweater, whereas she was wearing business clothes, and he knew she felt out of place.

  “Buster, stop playing with that baby and get me my coffee!” Jake snapped from a chair where he was putting lights on top of the tree. “Once again I’m doing all the work.”

  “Harsh, McBride, when I’m the one steadying your chair,” Newman said around a mouthful of cake.

  “Three sugars for me, Aramis.”

  Buster watched Willow flinch as Tex spoke, her eyes shooting him a guilty look. As she damned well should; he’d be suffering for years because of her.

  “I serve you all week, McBride. This is my day off, so you should be serving me.” Buster patted Billy’s head, then watched him make his way across the floor to Annabel, who had tinsel in her hands.

  “Willow, you put those balls on that side, honey.” Tex nudged her toward the tree. “That’s just the spot for them.”

  Buster watched her look at the tree, then at Branna, who was putting a small Santa decoration on a branch with Mikey’s help. He realized she was checking to make sure she didn’t do it wrong. Something in his chest squeezed as she bit her lip, looking uncertain.

  He couldn’t imagine being nervous about hanging a decoration on a tree, yet she was. Her fingers were fumbling with the branches as she slipped one of the balls on. She patted it, then shored it up, and finally stood back a step to look at the result. Her gaze swung from left to right to see if anyone was watching or judging her
placement.

  Jessica never would have been unsure about the placement of a Christmas bauble. In fact, she would have had the entire event synchronized.

  He’d met his ex in Paris, and the attraction had been instant and mutual. He hadn’t felt a whole hell of a lot beyond lust for her right off, but it had grown into something warm and pleasant, and eventually he’d believed himself in love. They’d moved on to discussing the future. Jessica was a lawyer and happy to move back to New York with him, but once they were there, everything had changed. She’d wanted to buy the best apartment, move in the best circles—and the list went on. Every time he’d turned around she was demanding more money from him for something. When he’d told her he was done with trying to keep her happy, she’d turned mean. It had taken him six months to get Jessica off his back, but he’d finally managed it, and there was no way in hell he would ever look at another career woman again. No matter how pretty and vulnerable she appeared, he reminded himself, running his gaze over Willow once more.

  “It looks good there,” Buster found himself saying when Willow reached to move the ball to another place. She turned, her gaze going to his, and then gave a jerky nod before hanging the second ball.

  For thirty minutes Buster watched as she quietly but precisely placed six things on the tree in different locations, stepping back each time to look and then move it a few inches to the left or right. Her teeth were permanently clamped on her lower lip as she worked. He knew his friends were watching her too because they were sharing looks, but no one said anything; they just encouraged her and annoyed the shit out of each other.

  “Mikey’s Grand Canyon fund is getting closer. You’re halfway now. Isn’t that right?” Branna asked the boy.

  “Yup, and it’s growing all the time.”

  “I’m flying a charter for him next week, and he gets the proceeds,” Tex said from the chair he was lounging in.

  “It’d be easier if we just gave you the money, squirt,” Newman grumbled.

  “But that’s not teaching me anything,” Mikey said from his position at the bottom of the tree, where he was decorating the areas the adults were avoiding.

  “Since when do kids want to learn?” Neman teased him.

  “His class is going on a trip to the Grand Canyon,” Branna told Willow. “Plus other places. Each of them has to come up with a certain amount, and then the school is fundraising the rest. We told him we’d pay, but he wants to raise the money, so we’re helping him.”

  “That’s very nice of you all,” Willow said. “I’m sure you’ll appreciate the trip more, Mikey, if you have a hand in the fundraising.”

  “We have to get up early for the brat,” Jake said. “We’re helping run a stall at the carnival for the school.”

  “Speaking of that, you ready for the crowds, Baker Boy? Running the café and the stall is going to be hard work, not to mention the fudge you’re making.”

  “Tex, I was born ready,” Buster said, which produced hoots of laughter. “And I don’t need as much sleep as you soft boys, so I’ll bake the fudge at night.”

  “I hope The Roar has stocked up on tie-dye,” Newman said. “The RVs will be flooding into town soon.”

  “Haven’t done that for years,” Jake mused. “Used to love it in school, though. We’d wear the shirts for a few days, all proud of ourselves, and then they’d be relegated to the backs of our closets.”

  If Buster hadn’t been watching her, he wouldn’t have noticed Willow’s reaction. But her knuckles suddenly went white around the decoration she was holding as a discussion broke out about various articles of clothing everyone had dyed and worn.

  “You ever do tie-dyeing, Willow?” She nodded in answer to his question, which surprised him because Buster had been sure she wouldn’t know one end of a dye bottle from the other. “I can’t imagine a city girl like you getting her hands dirty dyeing things, so it must have been a school project.”

  She placed the decoration on the tree as carefully as she had the others before answering him. “My family used to wear a lot of tie-dye.”

  “You’re shitting me, right?”

  “Why do you think that?” Her eyes were focused and intent as she looked at him through the lenses of her glasses.

  “I had you down for a big city born-and-bred type. Rich family, private school education, vacations in the Hamptons.”

  Her laugh didn’t hold a lot of humor. “You couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s funny how we can come to conclusions about people and be so wrong. I believed you were some struggling student working your way through college and various other scenarios, but never the Gryphon’s owner.” She walked to where her coat was lying and picked it up.

  “You dreamt about me?”

  “I thought about you,” she corrected, slipping her arms into the sleeves. “While I was waiting for my coffee.”

  Buster wondered what other conclusions she’d come to.

  “Can I have the key now, Macy? And directions. I need to make a few calls and get some work done.”

  Buster watched Macy’s gaze flicker from Willow to him before she got the cabin key out of her pocket and handed it to Willow.

  “You sure you don’t want to stay a bit longer?” Macy asked. “We’re having pumpkin soup for lunch.”

  “No. Thank you, though, for inviting me. I had a great time.”

  Buster nodded as she said a general goodbye to everyone. All the while his mind was processing the fact that she’d thought about him while she was in New York. She’d believed he was a student, and had made up scenarios about his life, just as he’d done for hers.

  She’d said he couldn’t be further from the truth about her upbringing. What did that mean? Had she been raised in poverty, or was she referring to something else? The woman intrigued him way too much, and that had to stop. First of all, she’d be leaving soon, and second, he wasn’t the type to let a woman intrigue him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Willow drove her rental into town and pulled up outside the general store. She shouldn’t have said what she had to Buster Griffin, but he’d touched a nerve when he’d told her he believed she came from money. She’d always wanted a normal family, not a wealthy one like he thought she had. The kind that went on vacations and celebrated Christmas, and dressed their children in normal clothes and sent them to school with others who dressed the same way. He’d decided she was a rich kid, which was so far from the truth that if she’d been inclined she would have laughed, but as she was feeling depressed she didn’t.

  Buster hadn’t confirmed a time with her to look over the contract. That meant she’d just have to go over to The Hoot and hope he’d see her. If that alone wasn’t enough to sink her mood, then spending time with those people at Macy’s house had highlighted what was missing from her life: friends, companionship and people who genuinely cared about her.

  She had family that she never saw and acquaintances, but no friends. There was no one person in her life who cared if she got out of bed each day. No one would notice if she stopped leaving her apartment and bolted the door shut, and there was no one who cared if she had her Christmas tree up and trimmed yet.

  Normally she didn’t care about having people in her life; in fact, until today she’d believed it was what she wanted, but now…

  Those people at Macy’s house genuinely cared about each other, all of them. They’d teased, cussed and annoyed each other, but under that had been a strong bond of love, and it had made Willow jealous that she had no one in her life like that.

  “You seriously need to get out of this town, Willow Harper, because it’s making you crazy.”

  She couldn’t believe she’d hung Christmas decorations on a real tree. Not like the little fake one she had in her apartment that had come already decorated, but a fir tree that even smelled like she thought Christmas should. She’d felt like a child about to start her first day of school as she fumbled with those shiny balls, totally out of her comfort zone. It wouldn’t h
ave been so bad if Buster Griffin hadn’t been watching her. She’d felt his eyes following her every move, and consequently her fingers had all felt like thumbs.

  “You can negotiate multi-million-dollar deals, but hanging a simple ornament is beyond you?” Willow muttered, getting out of the car. Maybe it was time to start re-evaluating her life?

  Willow wondered about those people she’d left at Macy’s house. What did they do here in such a small town? Ethan had mentioned charters—did he drive a tour bus? What about the others—were they in the tourist industry also? She couldn’t imagine there was a great deal of employment here, after all.

  They’d all seemed so happy, their lives exactly where they wanted them to be. She envied them that, because she had never reached that point; she always wanted more. More money, more security. Pushing those unsettling thoughts aside, she headed for the general store.

  The warmth embraced her as she stepped inside The Roar and closed the door behind her. There was an air of organized chaos, with things hanging from the rafters and shelves overflowing with items. Several smells blended to produce a lovely, spicy scent.

  “Come down the aisle. We’re just sampling the mulled wine to make sure it’s a good batch,” a voice called from the rear of the building.

  “Okay,” she answered before picking up a basket from the stack beside the door. These people were very lax in their service, she thought as she made a few selections while walking down the first aisle. First Buster had left her cooling her heels when she’d first arrived, and now she was doing the same here. Did they not realize that she could be a thief, intent on stealing their profits? Shaking her head, she thought the residents of Lake Howling were far too trusting.

  Stopping by the candle display, she selected two, a citrus and a vanilla one, in case the power went out.

  The store was stocked with everything from fishing equipment and lanterns to handmade soaps and thick woolen sweaters. She’d picked up a box of homemade chocolates before she could reason herself out of the purchase, dropped them into the basket, then reached the end of the row.