by C. M. Albert
Not that I needed reminding. Everywhere I turned in this small town I relived a memory. That was the problem with small towns. There was no escaping. Everything had a way of finding you. When I left the store and was loading the groceries into the back of the cab, I couldn’t help but notice Amore, the store where I’d easily dropped a few hundred dollars and never even had a chance to take my sexy new purchases for a spin.
I lamented on my way back to Tranquility, grateful for a quiet cabdriver who was focused on the roads. I would feel so much better once Egan, Celeste, and Dylan were safely home. The storm that was coming in looked nasty, especially if the sky was any indication.
After unloading an obscene amount of food—I seemed to have a bad habit of that—I started browning some ground beef for a shepherd’s pie. It was a recipe my grandmother had passed down to me and was the comfort food I was craving. My heart hurt. I couldn’t stop seeing Rosalie and Mitch embracing, her lips pressed against his. He sure hadn’t looked in a hurry to end the kiss. Was this simply retaliation because of Zade’s attention?
Sure, we’d had a one-night stand. It was a stupid mistake on my part during one of my first visits to Arden’s Glen. We’d all gone out on the town to celebrate the first successful round of retreats at Tranquility. What can I say? Shit happened. I had a few too many margaritas, did a little Shania karaoke, and ended up falling for Zade’s adorkable pick-up lines. Besides: he’d been in scrubs. Scrubs.
I rolled my eyes. Who was Mitch to jump to conclusions anyway? It didn’t even matter since he and I weren’t a “thing.” But I saw the way he looked at me when Zade walked into Ti’s room, sizing me up. We’d agreed the morning after our hookup that it was just that one night; but Zade still messaged me from time to time, asking when I’d be back in Arden’s Glen. I’d successfully sidestepped him up until this point.
I sighed as I whipped the mashed potatoes in a frenzy. I didn’t even know where Mitch was, or if he was coming back to Tranquility tonight. I made sure Dylan’s room was stocked with all of the baby items we purchased, as well as the few “surprises” we’d thrown in there as gifts. My heart ached when I thought about our shopping spree and how cute Mitch looked doing his impression of Tom Hanks in Big on the life-sized piano keyboard in the toy section. He was secure in his masculinity and I adored that; but he wasn’t afraid to have fun, either. I adored that side even more, I was discovering.
I turned when the front door clicked open, unsure of who would make it home from the hospital first. I heard the hustle and bustle of coats, boots, and bags being discarded, along with a deep sigh of relief coming from Celeste.
As I ran around the corner to greet them, Egan brought a finger to his lips. He pointed to Dylan, who was asleep in the car carrier. She looked like an angel with her rosy pink cheeks and a blanket tucked in snuggly around her. Her little brown curl peeked out from beneath a white and gold winter hat. I grabbed my camera and started snapping a bunch of pictures while Egan schlepped in the rest of their bags, a few flower arrangements, and some pink balloons. Celeste gratefully sank onto the living room sofa, propping her feet on the oversized leather ottoman that doubled as a coffee table.
“Mmm,” she groaned. “What’s cooking?”
I grinned at her, still snapping away at Dylan. “Making my shepherd’s pie if that’s okay? Thought maybe you guys could relax and we’ll take care of everything tonight—well, I will. Not sure if Mitch is heading back.”
“What? I thought he was staying here,” she said, her eyes already closed.
I quietly slipped Dylan from the car seat, collected her lusciously soft blanket, and moved over to the fireplace, laying her on the floor. She never even stirred. “I’m just gonna—” I looked at Celeste to indicate I wanted a few more pictures of the baby, but her eyes were still closed and she already looked half-asleep.
This time when Egan rounded the corner, I put my finger to my lips and mouthed “Shh” as I pointed to Celeste. He grinned. I kept taking pictures of Dylan. She was so photogenic with her button nose and pudgy hands. Eventually, I remembered I needed to get the pie in the oven, so I handed her off to Egan. He lowered himself in the leather recliner next to the fireplace, adjusted his daughter on his chest, and shut his eyes. He was down for the count as quickly as Celeste had been, so I got dinner in the oven and then headed downstairs to wrap a few last-minute gifts of my own.
It wasn’t the same without Mitch there, sharing a bottle of wine and joking around about his wrapping skills—or lack thereof. I just had a few small things, so it took me no time at all. My favorite was the bouncy seat I’d gotten for Dylan. I was assured by the salesgirl that this would be a godsend for Celeste and Egan when they needed to be hands free. Mitch had bought them a BabyBjörn for the same reason.
Mitch.
I couldn’t figure out what it was about him that made him so different. Sure, he’d had some unusual circumstances happen to him with the shark attack. But it wasn’t that. He was so much more than what happened to him. He says he retreated from the limelight after the injury, and he may have, compared to what his life used to be like—hell, I had no idea what that looked like. But he wasn’t “hiding” in Arden’s Glen at all. In fact, he was living more here than I was in the big city. He was absolutely right. I was showing up, but I hadn’t been showing up for years. Five to be exact.
I picked up the phone and called my mother. It was the first Christmas since I’d lost Will that I wasn’t spending with my parents, and I needed to hear her voice badly right about now.
“Hey, Mom—just thought I’d call and wish you a Merry Christmas Eve,” I said, trying to hide the shaking from my voice. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Well, hey, Dez! We were wondering if we were gonna hear from you. How’d the class go? You getting all the pictures you need while you’re there?”
I didn’t even know where to begin. I let out a long sigh.
“Hey, hon, you okay?” she asked.
I nodded, then laughed when I remembered she couldn’t see me. “Yeah. I’m okay. Well, I’m not okay, but that’s not why I called. The class went fine, though Celeste’s daughter Dylan made a dramatic early entrance into the world, so class got cut a little short. So Mitch and I—that’s a friend of Egan and Celeste’s—we’ve been getting the house ready for the baby. Had to stain a bassinet Egan refurbished for Celeste. It’s beautiful. They’re home safely now, but a storm’s coming in. Hopefully it won’t be too bad.”
“That’s wonderful news, darling! Please tell them we said congratulations! I’ll finish knitting her blanket and send it as quickly as I can.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“So, how come I feel like there’s more you’re not telling me?”
I groaned. “How are you always able to do that?”
“Do what?” she asked.
“Read me, even when I’m not with you. It seems like you always know when I’m not doing okay.”
“Darling, you’re my daughter. That’s my job. Plus, I spent the past five years hovering over you after the accident, paying attention to any little change in behavior. I know you’re doing much better now, but a mother always worries.”
I thought of Celeste and how much her life was changing right now as a new mother. Then my mind went to Mitch. My life was changing too. I just wasn’t sure if I was ready for it. “Mom,” I hedged, “I met someone here.”
“Well, Dez, that’s wonderful!” she exclaimed. “You haven’t been there that long, though. When did this happen?”
“A few days after I got here. The day I did the Vega shoot for the book, of Inez and Bridgette?” I downloaded the pictures from my camera as we chatted, the black and white images from the photo shoot filling my MacBook Pro. “I can’t wait for you to see all the pictures I’ve taken,” I said, scrolling through the thousands of pictures I’d captured since arriving in Arden’s Glen. My breath hitched when I came across Mitch’s photos, the ones of him at the angel. With no shirt on.
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“I bet they’re stunning,” my mother said. “So, tell me about this man. How did you meet him?”
He almost ran me off the road, I wanted to say. “Well, he’s a friend of theirs, so it was inevitable that we’d bump into each other eventually,” I said, grinning to myself. “I knew right away that I wanted to get him in front of the camera.”
“So, what’s the problem?” she asked.
“What makes you think there’s a problem?”
“Dez, you haven’t dated in five years—at least not anyone worth mentioning to Daddy or me. This is the first time I’ve heard you even talk about a man you’re possibly interested in. There’s something that you’re leaving out, though, and I feel like a huge ‘but’ is coming.”
I snickered. “You said ‘huge butt.’”
“Nice, Dez. Have you reverted back to your fifteen-year-old self while visiting Arden’s Glen?”
“Sorry! I had to,” I said, laughing. “Seriously, Mom, I can’t even begin to explain Mitch. He’s gorgeous and brooding. He was a well-known artist, but now he focuses on charity work at a youth center here in town, which is why I’m going to feature him in Angels in Action. He’d never call himself an angel, and didn’t even want his pictures taken, but I got some amazing ones of him working with his kids.”
I glanced at the computer screen and found the images I’d snapped in private, when Mitch hadn’t known I was there. I found him on the children’s floor, handing out gifts. After he parted from Rosalie, I followed him to a new room, intending to join him. But the look in his eyes as he spoke to the little redheaded girl, making funny dinosaur noises, well, my heart cracked open a little wider and I knew I needed to capture that moment. I’d gotten a bunch of amazing shots. Shots so good they just might be the ones that ended up in the book.
“I don’t know, Mom. There’s nothing I can fault him with. He’s an amazing lover, he—”
“Whoa! Back up. You slept with him already?” my mom pressed.
“Mom, you know that’s not the hard part for me,” I said. She’d known this about me for years. I wasn’t afraid to take what I needed physically, and I didn’t care if my mother knew. She’d kept me alive after I lost Will; we didn’t keep secrets.
“I know that, Dez. I’m just worried that you use that to avoid emotional intimacy. If you really care about this guy, you have to give him more than just that.”
“I know that! And I have. He’s the first man I’ve been with whom I’ve told about Will.”
“That’s wonderful, Dez. Really, I’m proud of you. So . . .” she said, drawing out the o. “What’s the problem then?”
“Ugh! I don’t know if I’m really ready to love someone again. What if I get hurt?”
“Won’t you be more hurt if you don’t even try?”
I thought about that. About what my life would look like if I walked away from Arden’s Glen and didn’t look back. What if I bumped into Mitch again someday at the market when I was visiting—because Lord knew we were good at running into each other. It would happen. Just like with Zade. Could I look at Mitch and walk away from him as I had with Zade this afternoon? Say a casual, “Hey, Mitch,” first?
No.
The answer was a solid, resounding hell no.
“Thanks, Mom. I think you just helped me figure something out.”
“That’s what moms are for, sweetie. So when are you coming home?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I was planning to fly back after New Years, but now that may depend on the weather, if Celeste needs help around here with the baby, and whether or not Mitch wants the same thing I do.”
“Well, you’ll never know unless you ask him, right?”
“Thanks, Mom! I love you so much. Merry Christmas. Tell Dad I’ll call sometime tomorrow, okay?”
“We love you, too, dear. Merry Christmas!”
I hung up the phone, desperate to find Mitch. I looked at the black and white images staring back at me from my computer screen. His dark, sensual eyes when he stared at me across the courtyard in the falling snow. The arch of his body as he dunked a basket, surrounded by the young kids he showed up for each and every day. The way he gave his whole heart and attention to that little girl in the hospital.
There was no way in hell I was walking away from this. I was done not showing up. For the first time in five years, I was ready to live again.
I DIDN’T RETURN to Tranquility until almost eleven at night. I needed to swing by one last store before they closed for the holidays and then grab a few more things at my house. The snow was falling harder now, and I knew there’d be a chance I’d get snowed in at Celeste and Egan’s. And I was all right with that.
A warm, homey smell filled the air as soon as I stepped through the doors. I tried to be quiet because I didn’t want to wake the baby—or anyone else for that matter. I was surprised to find everyone sitting around the Christmas tree, a fire roaring in the fireplace. The gifts we’d wrapped for Celeste and Egan were all tucked snuggly beneath the boughs, and I noticed a few more gifts in different wrapping paper. Those must be from Dez, since she had her whole color-coded system in place.
My eyes found Dez first. She was sitting in the leather recliner, Dylan lying in her lap, staring up at her. “Hey, everyone,” I said, dropping my extra bags by the front door. I’d take them upstairs later. “Surprised y’all are still up.”
Egan smiled, standing when I walked in the room. I gave him a man hug, clapping him on the back. “Congrats, man,” I said again, happy to see my best friend grinning like a fool.
“Appreciate it. Thanks to this one”—he pointed to Dez—“we had a two-hour power nap the minute we walked in the door.”
“You hungry?” she asked, finally meeting my eyes. I couldn’t read what was behind her expression, but I was grateful she was even talking to me after the way she stormed out of the hospital earlier. I needed some alone time with her to explain, but I was hungry, and it seemed rude to dismiss my friends and their new baby.
“Starving,” I said, my eyes never leaving hers. She got up, handing Dylan to Egan on her way into the kitchen.
“Here, I’ll reheat some shepherd’s pie for you,” she said. I followed her into the kitchen and waited patiently while she grabbed a huge glass container from the fridge. After she’d set it on the counter, I pulled her around the corner.
“We need to talk,” I said, low, my body pressing hers into the doorframe. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my hand in her hair and bring my mouth to hers, tasting her.
“I know,” she said, putting her hands against my chest and backing me up a bit.
Damn. So it was like that.
“Look, what you saw is not what you think happened,” I growled.
She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. The silence was deafening and worse than if she’d just let me have it. Angry Dez I understood. Silent Dez scared me.
“Dez,” I lowered my head, placing my forehead against hers, “please talk to me.”
“I will,” she whispered. “Just not now. It’s Christmas Eve and they just got home. I don’t want to ruin this for them. How about I come upstairs when everyone’s asleep?”
Nothing sounded better.
“Thank you,” I whispered, moving so she could get back in the kitchen. She scooped large mounds of leftovers onto a plate and microwaved it for me. The smell of bubbling cheese filled the kitchen, making my stomach growl. The girly breakfast sandwich Dez had fed me that morning was the last time I’d eaten.
Dez carried the plate to the living room, so I grabbed a beer on my way out. I set up a tray on my lap and dug in, savoring the spicy blends of meat, potatoes, and cheese. “Hey! Is this a green bean in here?” I scoffed, looking at Dez.
She grinned. “Gotta sneak them in somehow with you. Trust me, you won’t even taste them.” She looked at Celeste and rolled her eyes. I caught a look passing between Celeste and Egan, and I suspected they knew that something had
changed between us over the past few days.
“Thanks for taking care of everything for us, you guys,” Celeste said.
“Especially the food! Looks like we have enough for a small army,” Egan said, laughing.
“Yeah, sorry. That’s my fault. I tend to over shop when I’m stressed,” Dez said, stretching her legs by the fire.
“Well, this little one is getting tired,” Celeste said, planting kisses all over Dylan’s face and hands.
“How are you doing?” I asked her between bites.
“Good, actually. A little sore, of course, but better than I expected. And this little girl,” she said, nuzzling Dylan, “is an angel. I don’t know if all newborns sleep this much, but she’s been a rockstar so far.”
Egan grimaced and knocked on the wooden side table. “Don’t want to jinx ourselves,” he said. “All right . . . Christmas morning is coming soon. Let’s go crash, Celeste. Merry Christmas, you guys. We’ll see you in the morning.” Egan winked at Dez and she nodded, a silent communication passing between them.
I hugged Celeste as she passed by. She leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Christmas miracles really can come true. Don’t give up hope.”
I squeezed her arm, not daring to answer. I finished my dinner in silence, enjoying the meal that Dez had reheated for me. “Thank you,” I said when I was done, bringing my plate to the dishwasher. “That was incredible. You should consider opening your own restaurant.”
“Well, I don’t know if I’m that good, but I do love to cook, and my grandmother passed on many secret family recipes from the old world,” she said and winked.
“Italian?” I asked, hopeful.
She nodded, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “We’re doing a traditional Christmas dinner tomorrow night, but I’m making my world-famous lasagna on Boxing Day. You sticking around for it?”