For the next two hours, Layla took him through the properties on her list. After the first house, she’d slipped into easy conversation with him, and by the time they made it to the third house, she’d completely forgotten to be nervous.
“This master bedroom has a gorgeous view of the backyard.” She walked to the window overlooking a pool and an outdoor kitchen for entertaining. Then she searched the property map in her hand. “There’s supposedly a swing set too, but I don’t see it.”
He came to stand beside her. “Maybe it’s in the side yard.”
“No, I checked. There are just a couple of vegetable planters out there. But still,” she said brightly, turning on the sales charm, “I think this place has a lot of potential. It’s great for entertaining, and depending on your future needs, it could really grow with you.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “My future needs?”
“You know, for if you have a family. There are four bedrooms on this floor, plus a huge bonus room above the garage that’s big enough for a playroom, or extra bunk beds, or whatever you might need.”
He took the property map and nodded, his brow creasing in concentration. “Huh.”
She looked at the map. “What is it?”
“Oh, I’m just trying to find the outdoor barracks.” His mouth twitched. “You know, for my army of future children you seem to think I’ll be having.”
She rolled her eyes and took the page back. “Come on, there’s one last room we haven’t seen.”
When Layla opened the door to the last room at the end of the hall, she blinked in confusion. “This is kind of weird.”
Sebastian walked into the room behind her and whistled low. “That’s a lot of red.”
It really was. The entire room was like a punch to the face. She tried to think of a way to spin it in a positive light, but it wasn’t easy. “I mean, red paint is okay in some cases. A nice brick shade for a kitchen or dining room, for example. But this . . .” She trailed off, frowning. The walls were padded channels of deep red velvet, and the shag carpet was the same shade of crimson. Decorative metal rings were anchored along the wall at intervals. “Maybe this was a movie room.”
Sebastian eyed the mirrored ceiling where a large hook hung from the center beam. There was an odd look on his face, and he pressed his lips together like he was trying not to laugh. “I think it was definitely used for entertainment.”
Layla checked the property layout, but the room was labeled as a bedroom, just like the others. She shrugged and shook her head. “Oh, well. People and their decorating choices. I remember one house where the owners painted all the interior walls Pepto-Bismol pink, with Hello Kitty murals in the dining room and kitchen.” She walked to the window and peered out of the black blinds. “Anyway, this room has a great view of the side yard, and good closet space.”
Sebastian tried to open the closet, but the handle was stuck. “I think it’s locked.”
She turned from the window. “No, all rooms should be fully accessible. Here, let me see.” He stepped aside, and Layla gripped the handle, jiggling it. Nothing happened. “It shouldn’t be locked,” she muttered, twisting it harder. Suddenly the handle came off in her hand with a loud pop. “Well, great. That’s just poorly secured. I’m sure they can reattach it.” She used her finger to open the latch, swinging the door wide. “I’ll just make a note of—”
The overstuffed closet exploded around her, and a body came flying out.
Layla let out an ear-piercing shriek and fell to the floor as a box tumbled after her.
“Layla!” Sebastian grabbed the body and ripped it off her, sending it flying across the room. But instead of rushing to help her up, he paused. Warm laughter bubbled up from deep in his chest.
She scowled. The “body” was a blow-up doll with painted yellow hair and a gaping mouth. Blinking, Layla focused on the contents of the closet surrounding her on the carpet. Heaps of skimpy costumes. A leather whip. Colorful rubber sex toys. Fur handcuffs. A wooden paddle in the shape of a heart. She jerked, struggling to get up, but her legs were tangled in a strappy leather contraption with long black ropes and metal hooks.
Sebastian held out his hand, and she grabbed it like a lifeline.
He lifted her off the floor as she shoved at the weird strappy thing, kicking it away like it was on fire. “What the ever-living hell?” she muttered.
His eyes twinkled with laughter. “I think you found the swing set.”
* * *
Back in the car, Layla took a deep breath and let it out slowly, acutely aware that she was still red with embarrassment. She could practically feel the tips of her ears burning. Why couldn’t it have been a pink closet full of Hello Kitty stuff? She cleared her throat and stared out at the snow blanketing the fields. “Well, that was fun. I’ll be sure to tell the seller’s agent to add kinky sex dungeon to the list of features.”
“Hey, every pot has a lid,” he said with a chuckle. “Some people might consider it a big plus. You sure you weren’t just saving the best for last?”
She cringed and shifted on her seat.
“Come on, don’t be embarrassed. It’s not that big a deal.”
“I’m just annoyed they didn’t do a better job staging the house,” she said, checking her nail polish. “I’m not embarrassed, Dr. Harrington.”
“You sure?” He looked like he found her highly amusing. “Because you just called me Dr. Harrington, and if I remember correctly, we’ve kissed. So I think that puts us on a first-name basis with each other by now, don’t you?”
Layla flushed, her heart bumping around in her rib cage at the mention of that elusive kiss they’d shared.
“People sometimes revert to formality when they’re trying to distance themselves,” he said conversationally.
“Oh, is that so?” She pulled a folder from her tote bag and pretended to flip through it. “I didn’t realize you had a doctorate in psychology, Seb.”
He tipped his head back and laughed, and she had to grit her teeth because it looked really good on him, with the playful spark in his eyes and the dimples. He was just too handsome for his own good. Or hers.
“Are you done?” she said, pulling out a pen. “Because I’m about to cross that house off your list of potential homes.”
“All right, I’m done,” he said. “And now I’m starving. It’s past noon. How are you at cooking lunch?”
“Terrible. I’ve got Hot Pockets and wine.”
Sebastian made a face. “You can cross that off your list, too. I’ve got a better idea.”
Somehow, twenty minutes later, Layla found herself following Sebastian into the Pine Cove Country Club, a sparkling establishment with a palatial lobby and sweeping views of the golf course. When she was younger, she used to dream of belonging there, convinced that the country club was the epitome of success. Layla’s mom used to tease her about it, reminding her that the elegant members with their fancy cars and seemingly perfect lives were just people with problems like everyone else. But Layla had been so sure if she could just get there, her life would be complete, and her problems would be solved. Now, she had absolutely no desire to golf, and even though she could probably afford a membership, she wasn’t interested in one. The establishment had an air of old money and elitism, and while it didn’t bother Layla anymore, it never failed to remind her of who she used to be—the poor kid from the trailer park who didn’t belong.
The restaurant hostess seated them near a bay window in the main dining room, and Layla wondered how she’d arrived at this point in her day. When she woke up that morning, she’d planned to make her meeting with Sebastian as short as possible. And now, she was sitting across from him in a beautiful restaurant about to have lunch. With the crisp linen napkins, soft music, and sparkling chandeliers overhead, it almost felt romantic. Like they were on a date. She gripped her hands nervously in her lap as the server came to pour water and discuss the menu.
After they’d made their selections, Sebastian lean
ed back in his chair, regarding her thoughtfully. The silence stretched out for far too long.
She searched for something to say. “You golf?”
“Only when forced,” he said. “My dad used to make me when I was a kid, but I never got into it. Give me a good hockey or football game any day.”
“Yet, you’re a member here,” she said pointedly. “At a golf course.”
“My family has a lifetime membership.” Right. Of course they did. If Layla remembered correctly, his parents had donated large sums of money to local establishments, and his mom used to be on the fund-raising committee. “I just come here for the pool and restaurant.” He said it so casually, like it was nothing. Earlier when they were looking at houses, she’d almost forgotten that he was one of the shiny, happy people who’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Or in his case, an entire shovel. His family was loaded.
The server arrived to pour wine and deliver a basket of bread. She sipped the cool, crisp chardonnay, hoping it would help ease her frazzled nerves.
He sat back in his chair, the picture of relaxed ease. “So. What are your plans for the holiday?”
“You’re looking at it.”
His mouth curved up. “Drink wine all day?”
She gave him a look. “I’ll be working, as usual.”
“No traditional holiday plans with your parents or trips to the tropics with your boyfriend?” He asked it so casually, in the same offhand way a person might ask about the weather.
“I’m not currently in a relationship,” she told him. “Hence, that thing that happened between us you mentioned earlier.”
An amused quirk of his lips. “Thing?”
“You know.” She waved her hand. “The barely-there kiss.”
“Barely there,” he mused, watching her carefully.
She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It was over before it began, so I’m not sure it even counts.”
His eyes glittered with heat and challenge. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He was looking at her as if he had plans for next time. Big, sexy plans. She fought to keep her voice casual. “Anyway, I don’t do that whole Norman Rockwell holiday thing. My traditions are a little less conventional.”
“Such as?” he prodded.
She looked away in exasperation. “You’re very curious today.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to understand you.”
“Why?” She tilted her head and searched his face. If she was going to answer personal questions for him, then she deserved a decent answer.
“Because I think you’re brilliant and beautiful, and you fascinate me. You always have.”
Okay, that was way more than decent. It was wholly unexpected. He thought she was brilliant! And beautiful! Butterflies were cartwheeling in her stomach. This business meeting was going off the rails. The train had jumped the track, and she was now heading into unknown territory. She should be freaking out, except she wasn’t.
His voice dropped a little lower. “I just really want to know you better.”
Wow. She took another sip of wine, feeling as floaty as a helium balloon bouncing on a string. “There’s not much to tell. It’s only my mom and me during Christmas, so we just hang out at her place and watch Miracle on 34th Street. Neither of us are great cooks, so Mom usually makes a Twinkie tower, I bake a pizza, and we play Scrabble.” She shrugged self-consciously. “That’s about it.”
He nodded, like everything she said was perfectly normal. “No brothers or sisters?”
She shook her head. “No dad, either. My mom was single, and he was never in the picture. She told me he was a silver-tongued devil who’d built her castles in the air and then forgot to bring a ladder. Nothing he ever promised came true, and eventually he left her before I was born. She worked all the time, two or three jobs just to make ends meet, so things were . . . different for us.” Their trailer with the leaky roof was too small for a Christmas tree, and Layla remembered warming her hands over the candle on the Formica table and pretending it was a fireplace like in the storybooks. “Roast turkeys and homemade cookies weren’t really a tradition in our house.” She took another sip of wine, rubbing her fingernail over a crease in the tablecloth. “But no matter how bad it was, my mom always took Christmas day off to be with me. She’d bring home Twinkies and we’d just play games or go next door and watch movies with the neighbors.” It was so weird. She should’ve felt uncomfortable sharing that with him, but for some reason, she didn’t feel judged. Like she’d realized earlier that day, Sebastian was easy to talk to. “I bet that’s pretty pathetic compared to your family.”
“Not at all.” His face grew pensive. “You’d be surprised how terrible the holidays could be in the Harrington household.”
Layla’s mouth opened in surprise.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he rushed to add. “My sister’s family’s great. She and her husband and my nephew Charlie have included me in everything since I moved back here. They’ve even managed to convince me that having a family is something to look forward to, which is a miracle, considering the way I grew up.”
“The way you grew up?” That made no sense. He was raised in the lap of luxury, with doting parents who were pillars of the community. He had a sister and pets and trips to Disneyland. A giant house in a gated community and pool parties and a Porsche for his sixteenth birthday. “But your family was—”
“Things weren’t as perfect as they seemed, Layla. My parents fought all the time. At first, when my sister and I were little, we were blissfully unaware of how bad things were getting, and we were distracted by the lies. But by the time we got older, we learned just how bad their relationship had become. The image they portrayed to the public was just a shiny veneer. A façade. The only thing they ever agreed on was keeping up appearances. But behind closed doors, they hated each other. They were so bitter, it got to the point where they used me and my sister to communicate because they refused to talk to each other. And if they ever did stoop that low, it often ended in screaming fits and broken dishes.” He shook his head in disgust. “The tension in our house was unbearable. By the time I was a teenager, I spent more time sleeping over at friends’ houses than I did at home.”
Layla stared at him in disbelief. “But you were so . . .”
“Go ahead and say it. I was an ass.”
“Well, you weren’t my favorite person,” Layla admitted.
Regret flashed across his face. “Layla—”
She briefly closed her eyes, unwilling to go there. “What I was going to say is that you seemed so confident and outgoing. You seemed to have everything you wanted.”
He lifted his wineglass. “Seemed.” Took a drink and set it down. “But in reality, I was miserable. My home life was hell.”
“I had no idea all that was going on with you,” she said, shocked.
“No one did. I guess I was trying hard to keep up appearances, too. But, hey.” He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I learned from the best.”
“I’m sorry you went through that,” she said softly.
“I’m sorry for a lot of things.” He reached out and took her hand in both of his. So many emotions flickered across his face, Layla had to lower her gaze. It was too much to try to decipher, and she was still trying to process everything he’d told her.
The server brought their food out, and Layla reluctantly pulled her hand away. She immediately missed the warmth of his skin on hers. Through some kind of mutual, silent agreement, their conversation turned to work and easier topics. Layla poked at her grilled salmon, mulling over everything he’d revealed. All this time, she’d judged him for being such an arrogant jerk in high school, and while it didn’t excuse his behavior, it made her understand him a little better.
“Where’ve you been living before this, and what made you decide to move back to Pine Cove Island?” she asked after the server had cleared their plates.
“When my parents went through their messy divor
ce, it tore our family apart. I ended up moving to the San Francisco Bay Area with my dad, and my sister stayed with my mom. It was tough because my sister and I didn’t want to be separated, but we were caught up in their custody battle and they made us choose. Anyway, I ended up going to UC Davis for veterinary school, much to my father’s disappointment. I think he never quite accepted my chosen profession, and always acted like it was just a passing phase. In his opinion, being a veterinarian was a huge step down from running the family business. Last year he had a stroke, and after he recovered, he decided to retire. He also decided it was time for me to step in and oversee our vineyards in Napa and spearhead our family’s wine company. But that’s not what I wanted to do. I never wanted to follow in his footsteps. When I turned him down and told him I’d already made the decision to move back here where my sister lives, he was furious. He saw it as a form of betrayal and disowned me.”
Layla sucked in a breath. She couldn’t imagine how painful that must’ve been for him. Even through all the hard times, she and her mother had always remained close. She couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be disowned by someone you love. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said with conviction. “My father was a bitter man, and he was unhappy for a lot of reasons. Walking away from him was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, but I’ve made my peace with it, and I’m grateful to be here. If anything, it’s a relief to be out from under his constant judgment, and I love being near my sister and her family.”
“Then I’m glad you’re here,” Layla said, meaning it. As surprising as it was, she enjoyed his company more than she ever would’ve believed possible. Guilt stabbed at her for how she’d judged him when he’d first arrived back on the island. She knew, better than anybody, how life’s difficulties could shape a person, and she was genuinely glad to see him happy. Who knew?
“Now all I need is to find a good house, and I’ve no doubt you’ll help me do that.”
Layla suddenly thought about the house near hers. It met all his requirements. Open floor plan, huge, fenced backyard, and lots of room to grow. She’d be wrong to steer him away from that just because of some old grudge she’d held against him when they were kids.
A Snowy Little Christmas Page 15