Seventeen years had passed since those few moments by her locker at Justice Creek High.
And yet somehow, today, as Dare stood at her shoulder in the Blueberry clubhouse on the Monday before Thanksgiving, seventeen years ago felt way too much like yesterday.
He moved, bending closer. She knew what was coming: a teasing fake pass. She was right.
“Tonight,” he whispered. “Eight o’clock.”
She should have done what she always did when he pretended to put a move on her, given a shake of her head, stepped away, maybe let out a little chuckle of mingled amusement and annoyance. It was only a silly game between them, and they’d been playing it the same way for months now, ever since she’d begun working with Bravo Construction, made friends with his sisters and started getting invited to Bravo family gatherings. They did this all the time, and it didn’t mean a thing. All she had to do was stick with the program.
Shake your head. Move away. Her mind told her what to do, but her body and her heart weren’t listening. She had so much yearning all bunched up and burning inside her. The yearning had her hesitating, frozen on the brink of a dangerous emotional cliff.
Maybe it was her crazy Christmas-fling fantasy. Or his sweetness with the girls. It might have been loneliness stirred up and aching from too many years of self-control and strict self-denial.
Or maybe it was simply the perfect manly scent of him, the low, rough sound of his voice that had haunted her as a teenager and now, as a grown woman, stirred her way more than she ought to allow.
Whatever it was that finally pushed her over the edge of the cliff, she went. She fell. She turned her head back toward him behind her and whispered so low he probably shouldn’t have been able to hear it, “Great. See you then. I’ll be naked.”
Chapter Two
Darius heard her, no doubt about that.
She knew by the way his big body went dead still, by the sudden sharp intake of his breath.
Run away, run away fast! shouted the internal voice of smart, practical, everyday Ava, who knew better than to issue blatantly sexual invitations to a man she’d always promised herself she would never be foolish enough to fall into bed with.
But she didn’t run away. Not immediately.
Instead, she compounded her own idiocy by turning fully toward him and looking him straight in the eye.
He gaped back at her, his expression pure deer-in-the-headlights. Clearly, she’d surprised him.
And not in a good way.
So then. In spite of what he’d said seventeen years ago, the last thing he really wanted was for her to finally say yes to him.
Her heart beat a sick, limping rhythm under her ribs as she accepted the fact that she’d just made a complete fool of herself.
Dear God, please let me sink right through this floor this very instant.
But God didn’t come to her rescue and suck her beneath the surface of the earth. The world kept on turning. Behind her, Janice continued scheduling volunteers—and Dare Bravo stared at her like she’d just sprouted horns and a long, forked tail.
Behind her, Janice dismissed the group. “All right, everyone. Happy Thanksgiving. See you all next Monday.”
Ava wheeled and made a beeline for her daughter. She had Sylvie in her coat, wool hat and mittens in seconds flat. Then, with a cheerful wave and a “Happy Thanksgiving!” she got the hell out of there.
* * *
“I don’t see why you won’t come with us.” Kate Janko ate a bite of mashed potatoes and gazed reproachfully across the dinner table at Ava. “The weatherman’s promised no more snow until next week. The roads will be clear for the drive tomorrow. Ava sweetie, everyone will be there.” There was Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, where Ava’s parents, her brothers and their families would all be attending a big Janko family reunion over the coming Thanksgiving weekend.
“Mom, I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Ava said for the umpteenth time. “I’ve got a closing on Wednesday and an important open house on Saturday. It’s just not doable.”
“You work so hard, honey.” Her mother cast a wistful glance around Ava’s dining room, with its gorgeous built-in cabinets and art glass chandelier. Ava was proud of the cozy two-story bungalow she’d bought when she first returned to Justice Creek from California. It might not be large, but she’d restored it meticulously, keeping true to its Arts and Crafts style. “I just don’t see why you can’t take a few days off and be with your family for Thanksgiving.”
“Gramma, we just can’t,” Sylvie piped up. “We’re having Thanksgiving at Annabelle’s aunt Clara’s house. And then Saturday night, I’m going for a sleepover at Annabelle’s house.”
Kate frowned. “Aren’t you a little young for sleepovers?”
Sylvie puffed up her thin chest. “Annabelle’s too young ’cause she’s only six.” Every s had a soft, sweet little hiss to it. Sylvie had lost two front baby teeth, one in October and one just two weeks ago. “But I’m seven, and that is old enough.” She glanced Ava’s way. “Mommy said so. Right, Mommy?”
Ava hid a smile and gave her daughter a nod.
Kate opened her mouth to voice further objections. But Ava’s dad, Paul, put his hand over his wife’s. “Looks like our girls are staying home for Thanksgiving, Kitty Kat.”
Ava’s mother turned her hand over and gave her husband’s fingers a squeeze. They shared a glance both tender and fond. They still called the double-wide at Seven Pines home. And all you had to do was look at them together to know they still lived on love. “Well, I wish you would change your mind,” said Kate as Paul reluctantly took his hand back and both of them picked up their forks again.
“Sorry, Mom. But we just can’t get away.”
“We’ll miss you,” said her father.
“We’ll miss you, too,” Ava dutifully replied.
“May I please be ’scused till dessert?” asked Sylvie. “I ate everything, even my broccoli, and it was gross.”
Biting her lip to keep her expression appropriately serious, Ava turned to her daughter. “That you ate your broccoli is excellent. Broccoli is very good for you.”
“It doesn’t taste like it’s good for me. Chocolate tastes like it’s good for me.”
Ava bit her lip harder. Grandpa Paul made a faint choking sound as he tried not to laugh. Gramma Kate swatted him under the table.
Ava said, “Sylvie. What do you do when you don’t like the taste of your food?”
“I eat it or I don’t eat it,” Sylvie replied obediently. “If I don’t eat it, I don’t get dessert. But I’m not s’posed to say that I don’t like it because that is rude.”
“Very good. And saying that your broccoli is gross is the same as saying that you don’t like it.”
Sylvie wrinkled her nose but conceded, “Yeah. I guess so. I s’pose I am sorry.”
Ava nodded. “Excellent. You are excused. Clear off your place, please.”
Sylvie beamed a giant smile, displaying the wide gap where her baby teeth had been. She jumped up, grabbed her plate and trotted through the arch to the kitchen.
As soon as she was gone, Kate lowered her voice and asked, “Did you hear about Nick Yancy?”
Ava didn’t know Nick well. He was in his early twenties, a sweet cowboy and something of a star in the local rodeo. In the last few months, Nick and Jody Bravo, one of Darius’s half sisters, had become friends. Jody swore it was only that—friendship. But everyone thought Nick wanted it to be more, even though he was six or seven years younger than Jody.
And the bleak expression on her mom’s face alarmed her. “Did something happen to Nick?”
“Tractor accident,” said her father somberly.
“Oh, no. When?”
“They found him just this afternoon. The story is that a spring locking pin failed. He got
crushed in a rollover. They rushed him to Justice Creek General but he died on the way.”
Ava pushed her plate away. “Now, that’s just all wrong.”
Her mom nodded. “He was a fine young man. They haven’t said yet when the service will be. I’m guessing this weekend sometime. We should be there.” Ava’s mom and dad had gone to school with Nick’s stepdad. “But we have the Idaho trip...”
Ava took the hint and volunteered, “I’ll go if I can possibly manage it.”
“That would be good.” Her dad reached across and patted her hand.
And her mom had tears in her eyes.
Nick Yancy, gone. Suddenly, that Ava had embarrassed herself with Darius Bravo didn’t matter in the least. A good man was lost. Life could be so cruel.
But then her mom said, “I saw that nice Ray Tucker at Safeway. He asked how you were doing.” Ray was a CPA now. Ava had gone out with him twice years ago, when they were both at Mountain High Junior College, before she married Craig. “I told him you were going great guns with the real estate, and he said to be sure to say hi to you.”
Ava knew where this was headed and didn’t like it in the least. She replied flatly, “If you see him again, tell him I said hi back.”
“He’s divorced now, you know. And I personally think he’s still carrying a torch for you.”
Ava leveled her sternest look on her mom. “Please don’t.”
“You should be dating. After what happened to poor Nick, it just brings it all home.”
“Mom, I know Nick Yancy was a great guy, and it’s awful that we’ve lost him so suddenly and so young. But it’s just wrong for you to use his dying as an excuse for your matchmaking.”
“I am not matchmaking.”
“Oh, yes you are.”
“I only meant that you never know what can happen, and you need to squeeze every drop of love and happiness from life while you can. Craig was a wonderful man, but it’s been six years and you’re still young, with so much to give. There’s no reason you can’t find a good man who—”
“Mom, can we just not go there tonight? Please.”
Her mother sighed and shared another meaningful glance with Ava’s dad. “I think you’re cheating yourself,” Kate said quietly at last.
“I’m very happy, Mom. I promise you. I have a brilliant, beautiful daughter, good friends and a loving family. I’m blessed with a fine house to live in. My business is booming. I don’t need a man to make my life complete.” As she spoke, she had a sudden, vivid image of Darius in his paper crown and pop beads. She felt her cheeks flame bright pink. Dear Lord, she would have to see him on Thursday at Clara’s house. How awkward was that going to be?
Better not to even think about it.
Her mother asked anxiously, “Honey, are you okay? You look a little feverish.”
“I’m perfect,” Ava said firmly, and she reminded herself yet again that what she’d said to Darius didn’t matter in the least. “Now, let me clear off. I’ll get the coffee going and dish up the apple pie à la mode.”
Her parents stayed until after Sylvie was in bed. As they went out the door, Ava pulled her mom back for a moment and pressed a check for six hundred dollars into her hand.
“Oh, honey. You don’t have to do that,” her mother protested softly.
“But I want to. Gas for the trip. And I know you’re going to send flowers for Nick Yancy from the family. This should help with that, too.” She’d been giving them money since she got her first babysitting job. At least now she could afford it. Back then, it had been tough to part with each and every one of those hard-earned dollars.
“You’re the best daughter I ever had,” said Kate, same as she always did when Ava helped her out a little.
And as always, Ava replied, “I’m your only daughter, so I’d better be the best.”
Kate grabbed her close for a hug. “Thanks, baby.”
“You’re welcome. Love you, Mom...”
* * *
Thanksgiving with the Bravos. It should have been great.
Ava had been looking forward to all the warmth and good times of a big family get-together—but minus her bossy brothers and her mother’s relentless attempts to get her to start dating again. However, no matter how often Ava lectured herself about keeping things in perspective, her own cringe-worthy behavior at the Blueberry troop clubhouse Monday afternoon had turned her anticipation to dread.
Through Tuesday and Wednesday and the first half of the big day itself, she kept up the internal pep talks. She told herself it was nothing. People said ridiculous things to each other all the time. She needed to get over it and move on.
And anyway, there would be a crowd at Clara’s. It should be easy to steer clear of Darius. Given time, they would both forget her over-the-top comeback to his silly, meaningless flirting.
She and Sylvie arrived at Clara and Dalton Ames’s house right on time at two.
Clara swung the door open, and the wonderful, savory smells of garlic, sage and roast turkey drifted out. She ushered Ava and Sylvie in and then enfolded each of them in a welcoming hug. “So good to see you.”
“You, too,” said Ava, admiring the garland of autumn leaves twined on the stair rail and the miniature pumpkins and gourds piled in a decorative bowl on the entry table. “Everything looks so festive, and dinner smells amazing.”
Judging by the laughter and chatter coming from the great room down the hall, the beautiful old Victorian was already packed with Bravos. Franklin Bravo, the family patriarch, had fathered nine children—four by his first wife, Sondra. And five more by his then-mistress and eventually his second wife, Willow. Of those nine Bravo siblings and half siblings, four were married now and three of those had children. All of them were expected for dinner today, so avoiding Darius should be no problem.
“Toss your coats on the bed in there,” Clara said, indicating the master bedroom off the front hall.
“Thanks.” Ava shrugged out of her coat.
She was just about to help Sylvie with the tie on her favorite red wool hat when her daughter cried, “Darius! We’re here!” and took off down the hall toward the tall, impossibly handsome man at the other end.
He wore a cream-colored sweater and black jeans, and even from the opposite end of the hallway, his eyes seemed bluer than usual. Damn him. Why did he have to be so good-looking? For a moment, she stared at him and he gazed back at her, and it was awful and wonderful, strange and exciting.
Sylvie skidded to a stop in front of him and wriggled in place, suddenly shy. “Hi.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, Sylvie. Love your hat.”
“It’s red.” She pointed at the cluster of knit daisies over her left ear. “With flowers.”
“And very pretty.”
“Mommy ties it double for me so it won’t come undone.”
“Ah.” Darius shot Ava a glance full of humor—and something else that made her knees go weak.
“Would you please help me untie it?” Sylvie stretched her neck and pointed at the double-knotted bow.
“Let’s see here...” He dropped to a crouch in front of her and went right to work.
At the same time, the doorbell chimed and Clara turned to let in the next guest, her half sister Jody. Ava willed her pulse to slow the heck down and made herself stride over to where Dare knelt before her little girl.
Those big hands with their long, clever fingers made short work of the knot. He pulled one end of the bow, and it fell open. “There you go.”
Sylvie scooped off the hat, causing her caramel-colored hair to spark and crackle with static. She giggled, “I’m ’lectric!”
“You sure are.” Dare’s low chuckle set Ava’s nerves humming.
Sylvie stuck out her little hand and patted his rock-like shoulder. “Thank you very
much.”
“You’re welcome.” He rose as Annabelle Bravo, all plump cheeks, thick dark hair and big brown eyes, raced down from upstairs. With a quick wave at Ava, she reached the main floor and headed straight for her best friend. “Sylvie! Finally. Come on. Aunt Clara let me make a fort with blankets upstairs in a spare room. Kiera helped.” Kiera was Clara and Dalton’s toddler.
Sylvie shed her coat and handed it and the hat to Ava. “Can I, Mom?”
“Sure.” Annabelle already had Sylvie’s hand and was pulling her toward the stairs at a run. “Okay, you two,” Ava called after them. “No running in the house.”
Annabelle slowed. “Sorry, Ava.” The two girls giggled together and proceeded up the stairs at a slower pace, leaving Ava alone at that end of the hall with the one man she didn’t want to be anywhere near at the moment.
But then Clara and Jody, who had disappeared into the makeshift coatroom, emerged and came toward them.
Ava thought of poor Nick Yancy, Jody’s friend. “Jody! How are you?”
“Okay.” Jody didn’t look okay. Shadows rimmed her eyes, and her smile was forced.
Clara gave her half sister’s arm a fond pat and went on into the great room, while Ava wrapped Jody in a hug and whispered, “My mom told me about Nick. I’m so very sorry.”
Jody held on for an extra few seconds and admitted softly, “It’s awful. He was such a sweet guy. I still don’t really believe it...”
Ava murmured a few more soft condolences. She added, “I heard the funeral’s Sunday afternoon.” Her mom had called her yesterday with the information. “My parents know Nick’s stepdad, but they’re out of town for the holiday. I’m going to try to put in an appearance Sunday, represent the family...”
“That’s good of you, Ava. Nick and I had only been friends for a few months...” Jody’s voice trailed off as though she didn’t know quite what to say next.
Who did in a situation like this?
A Bravo for Christmas Page 2