Sara recognized the serious tone of voice. She hadn’t heard her uncle talk serious too many times and when he had, it usually had to do with their family—her grandparents—the ones that lived near San Francisco. “Okay, I won’t say anything, Uncle Chris.”
“Thanks, squirt, I appreciate it.”
“I’m sorry.”
He leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head. “You don’t need to be sorry.”
“You’re not going to tell me why, are you?”
“Nope, not yet, but I will explain everything to you soon, okay?”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
She was smiling as she climbed out of the car, slammed the door behind her, and trotted off to her dance studio. Chris stood in the street for a minute, watching her. He’d done the right thing, he decided, even if it had been selfishly motivated. But the truth was, that was the only way Shelly would let him help with her dance lessons. His sister was even more stubborn than Anne was.
He sighed and shook his head as he thought about his sister and her stressful life. Despite the number of nights he had spent on her living room couch, she refused to let him contribute to her rent. She’d finally let him pay the utility bill a couple times. The only thing she never refused were the groceries he brought home with him. Not exactly returnable. So, he’d gotten in the habit of stocking her refrigerator and pantry every chance he got. He’d had to take to hiding money in drawers and sneaking it into her purse when she wasn’t looking in order to give her any cash at all. Definitely stubborn. And very proud.
What he really wanted to give her was a larger apartment, a cleaning lady, and a monthly check to cover her rent. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Hopefully he’d have more success with his other plan. Winning the heart of Anne McCullough Jameson, marrying her, and building a house for them in Canden Valley with a very large guest house for his sister and niece. And spending the next several years watching the love of his life dance her heart out.
He stared through the window of the dance studio and spotted his niece talking to her teacher. Suddenly the girl’s arms reached out and encircled the woman’s waist. He had no idea what they were talking about, but whatever it was, Anne had said something to make Sara very happy. The embrace didn’t end quickly, and he suspected there were tears involved. Anne leaned down and kissed the top of Sara’s head and then hugged her more tightly. He quickly fumbled with his camera bag and pulled out his Nikon to attempt to capture the moment. It wouldn’t be a great shot through the glass, but it would be better than nothing.
Five shots later, he tucked the camera back in its case and slung it over his shoulder. Still, he was stuck to the pavement outside the dance studio. When the embrace ended, Sara was jumping up and down. Then she ran off to the dressing room. Anne was smiling as she stared after her.
Chris’s hand reached up to cover his heart, much the way he had seen Anne do on more than one occasion when she was touched by something . . . or someone. Even if nothing came of their relationship, he was grateful for whatever impact she’d already had on his niece.
But God he loved her. Something had to come of their relationship. Something permanent. Not that it could even be categorized as a relationship at this point. Damn, he didn’t know how much longer he could wait. He wanted her so desperately. He wanted to hold her and feel her lips against his again. He wanted to spend time with her, talking, hearing stories of her childhood, listening to her talk about her passion for dance, walking along the beach with her holding hands. And he wanted to fall asleep with her in his arms and awaken with her lying beside him.
“Whoa, you’ve got it bad.”
He jolted at the sound of a female voice, his hand dropping to his side. It took a moment for him to emerge from his daydream. “Skye.”
“Yep, that’s me. And you are in big trouble.”
“I am?”
Skye cocked her head to the side. “Judging from the way you’re looking at my cousin, I’d say so. And she will take advantage of that.”
Chris reconciled himself to the fact that, much to his humiliation, this conversation was going to have to be open and honest. “Yeah, okay. So, what do I do about it?”
“You control yourself, that’s what you do.”
“Sounds fun.”
Skye slapped him on the back. “You’ll be okay. You have us on your side.”
“Us? As in you and Nick?”
“And Arielle.”
“Arielle? Your Cousin Matt’s wife, right?”
“That’s right.”
“So you’ve been talking about me?”
“Yep. And we’re working on a plan. We’re taking Anne over to Winslow for tea on Saturday to work our magic.”
As much as it bothered him to know he had been the pathetic subject of their conversation, he did feel some relief. According to Nick, if these two women were behind him, there was hope.
“And?”
“And, we’re pretty much going to play good cop, bad cop.”
He felt his forehead furrow as he tried to grasp what plan she had up her sleeve. Before he could begin to comprehend, she explained.
“One of us will be on your side. The other won’t.”
“Let me guess—you’ll be playing bad cop.”
“That’s right.” Her smile was an outright smirk. “Obviously you’ve heard rumors about me. And they’re probably all true.”
Chris didn’t deny it. He had heard plenty about the feisty, rebellious McCullough cousin. “Just one question. How do you know Anne will even mention me in the conversation?”
Skye raised a single eyebrow. “Because lately, she always does.” Once she’d finally divulged his existence.
As Skye turned to head off down the street toward the pub, Chris called after her. “She talks about me?”
Skye turned around and took a couple steps back in his direction. “Yeah, big guy, she’s mentioned you a few times.”
This was good. If she was talking to her cousin about him, it had to mean something.
“But don’t let it go to your head. She tells me about all the guys in her life.”
Damn.
Skye wanted desperately to put the man out of his misery, but she didn’t want to give him false hope either. Still—”But I do have to say, she does light up when she talks about you.”
“Does she light up when she talks about other guys?”
“Not so much. And I’ve never seen her swoon before either. So, just keep doing what you’ve been doing. Whatever it is, it seems to be working.”
He was happy to hear that. “Mild flirting is about it.”
“Mild flirting is okay. So is seducing her with your charm.”
Chris shook his head as if that would help him understand. “You mean flirt, make her think I want her, and then reject her?”
“Exactly.”
“Harsh.”
“I know, but unfortunately it might be the only thing that will work. Just keep playing it on the cool side. You have her confused and that’s a novelty.” She just wished Anne saw him as something other than a between-tour toy.
“Exactly how cool?” he asked, suddenly feeling like a lovesick idiot. But it was worth asking. He did not want to risk screwing this one up.
“It means, don’t sleep with her.”
He laughed self-consciously. Nick had warned him that Skye could be blunt. But he only had himself to blame. He had asked the question. “Does that mean I can do—uh, other things?”
Skye considered that for a moment. She and Arielle had not discussed this. “As long as you can control yourself.”
He couldn’t believe he was having this intimate conversation with a woman he hardly knew. In the middle of the street. In the tiny village of Canden Valley.
Skye chuckled. The guy’s thoughts were written across his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to me. So, if you want a serious relationship with her, keep her wanting more. I know
my cousin well. Trust me on this one.”
Chris figured he didn’t have much choice. He’d watched Anne Jameson in action enough times, and had even met a couple of the guys she’d dumped in the past, to know that his only hope was to have the people she loved and trusted on his side. That and getting her to fall in love with him before he fell into bed with her.
Chapter 11
Sara grabbed Chris’s ringing cell phone from its perch on the console beside him. “It’s Grandma.”
“You can talk to her if you want,” he said.
“But she’ll want to talk to you too.”
“Tell her I’m driving.”
“She’ll tell you to pull over.”
“Then don’t answer it,” he said, a second too late as Sara slid her finger across the phone to answer his mother’s call.
“Hi, Grandma, it’s me, Sara.”
Chris could only hear one side of the conversation, but it wasn’t difficult to guess what the other side was.
“My new dance class in Canden Valley . . . . It’s not that far. . . . . Uncle Chris doesn’t mind . . . . I love it. I even get to dance in The Nutcracker . . . . It’s not a hick town, Grandma, and the dance teacher is amazing . . . . He can’t talk ‘cause he’s driving . . . . ”
Sara looked up at him, and he groaned and pulled off the highway onto a small turn-out. He could always plead bad cell service in this hick town.
“Hello, Mother.” He pressed the phone to his ear.
“Hello, Christopher. You didn’t call me back.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been pretty busy here.”
“Taking your niece back and forth to dance classes I hear. What on earth for?”
“She loves to dance.”
“I’m sure there are dance studios in Winslow. When are you coming home?”
Home? Where did she think his home was? He’d moved out of the family house thirteen years ago. He did still have his loft studio in San Francisco, but she’d never even been to visit him there. “I’m working on several articles here.”
“I assume you’re coming home for the holidays.”
“Probably not.”
Her voice softened, and he felt the tension roiling up in his stomach. Guilt. He’d been conditioned to feel responsible for his mother’s feelings. “Please, Christopher. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Mom. I’ll come home when I can, but it won’t be for Christmas.”
Her sigh cut through him like a knife. “Your father will be very upset.”
Relief hit as the guilt subsided at the mention of his father. And the old familiar ploy of using his father in an attempt to evoke that very guilt.
“As will your grandparents. And the entire family for that matter.”
Right. As if they’d notice. Whether he was there or not, he’d be the subject of the conversation, family disappointment that he was. At least if he wasn’t there, they could speak freely without his defending himself. Much more relaxed meal, he was sure. Especially for him, even if it was a TV dinner.
“I have to go. I’ll call you soon, okay?”
“Okay, darling, but think about it, please? Sara and Shelly are coming. You could drive up with them.”
If he had his way, he’d talk them out of going.
After a couple minutes, Sara broke the silence that had settled over them. “Why don’t you get along with Grandma and Grandpa?”
This was not a subject he cared to discuss, particularly with his niece. He tried to get away with a shrug. It didn’t work.
“Why don’t you like them?”
“I don’t not like them.” How was that for a bullshit response? Apparently Sara felt the same way.
“But you don’t really like them.”
“I don’t like being around them.”
“Because?”
“Because— I just get tired of the conversation, that’s all.”
“You mean when Grandpa and Great Grandpa lecture you about being a photographer instead of working with them?”
“Right.”
“Why don’t they want you to be a photographer? You’re really good at it.”
“Not prestigious enough apparently. And not the family money business.” The disgust and anger in his voice said as much as his words did.
“They do care a lot about money, don’t they?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“I mean, that’s not a bad thing. It’s just that there are more important things.”
Chris was impressed, although not surprised by his niece’s wisdom. He glanced over at her. “Such as?”
“Well, Mom always says you can’t hug money the way you can hug someone you love.”
Chris chuckled. How true that was.
“But sometimes I wish we had both, you know? Plenty of money and plenty of hugs.”
Apparently, despite Shelly’s efforts to protect her daughter, Sara was aware of the fact that money was scarce in their household.
“I know Mom works real hard and stuff but she doesn’t seem to make hardly any money. I mean, she works at two restaurants and still has trouble paying for stuff. I don’t mind not having stuff like new clothes and all that, but I feel bad when she gets me things she can’t really afford. Especially ‘cause she works so hard.”
Chris reached over and squeezed her hand. “She loves you very much, munchkin.”
“I know she does.” She sighed, then said, “Thank you for these dance classes, Uncle Chris.”
“You’re very welcome.”
“How did you get Mom to let you pay for them?”
He chuckled. She knew her mother well. “I just told her I was coming here anyway because I’m featuring Anne in my article on dance.”
“But that doesn’t mean you had to take me along.”
“I like having company?”
“That doesn’t make sense ‘cause you’re staying in Canden Valley most of the time now. So, what’s the real reason?” She was only eight but she had more wisdom in her pinky than most of his family members had in their entire bodies—put together. She knew how stubborn her mother was. And she knew when he was trying to keep something from her. “It has something to do with Anne, doesn’t it?”
Chris patted her hand. “I promise I’ll tell you everything . . . soon.”
Sara leaned back in her seat. Chris could feel her smiling with satisfaction. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to face any further interrogation the remainder of their drive to Winslow.
No such luck. Five minutes later, she said, “Why don’t you want to go up to their house for Christmas?”
“I’ve heard the dinner conversation enough times. I don’t need to hear it again.”
Sara nodded. “I know what you mean. I kind of like going because I like being part of a big family and all, but I get tired of hearing them talk about you and Mom like that.”
“Like what?” he asked, curious to hear her interpretation of it.
“Like you’re not good enough because you’re not like them.”
The squirt had nailed it.
“But you are. You know that, right?”
Suddenly he felt like the kid, talking to the adult. “Yeah, I know that.” At least most of the time he did.
“And Mom knows that. At least she says she does. But sometimes I think it would be better just to stay away from there so she doesn’t have to hear about the choices she made and all that stuff.”
“I have to agree with that.”
“But she says we’re going this year.”
“I know.”
“You wish we weren’t, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“So you could spend Christmas with us?”
He could hear the sadness in her voice. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll be fine.”
“Do you have someone else to spend it with?”
He was hopeful. “Not yet.”
Sara giggled as she unbuckled her seatbelt when they pulled up to the curb. “Maybe An
ne will invite you to her house.”
Again, he was hopeful. “Maybe.”
“You want her to! You do!”
Chris chuckled and reached over to tickle his niece. He knew better than to deny it. Apparently the girl could read him like a book. “It would be nice,” he confessed. “But don’t tell her that, okay?”
“Why not? Why don’t you want her to know you like her?”
This conversation again. “I thought I explained that.”
“No, all you did was admit that you think she’s pretty.”
Oh, yeah, right. “Okay, well, I admit I like her, but she can’t know that, not yet anyway.”
“Why not?”
He put his hand on his door handle, but Sara grabbed his other one and tugged before he could climb out of the car. “Oh, no you don’t!”
She was relentless. And just as stubborn as her mother. And she had a whole lot more energy than either of them. “Okay, but this conversation is confidential.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means it’s private, top-secret, just between you and me. Promise?”
There was a gleam in her eyes, the one that said she felt special. “I promise.”
“The truth is, I’m crazy about Anne. The truth is, I do think she’s pretty.” The truth was, he did want to kiss her.
He scowled at the sound of his niece’s giggle. “Go on.”
“But she’s not good at relationships.”
“Not good? How not good?”
“Well, she, uh, gets involved with a guy and then dumps him right before she goes out on tour.”
“Oh, that’s not so good.”
“No, that’s not so good.”
“But that doesn’t mean she’d dump you.”
“Odds are not in my favor.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to keep it on a friendship-only basis.”
Sara frowned and scratched her head as if she were thinking really hard. “’Cause you think she’d be better at staying friends with you than if you were boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“Something like that.”
Sara nodded, and Chris actually felt pleased at her approval of his plan. Eight-year-old wisdom went a long way in his book. “But how will that work? I mean you can’t really kiss her if you’re just friends. And you do want to kiss her, right?”
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