The Corner of Holly and Ivy--A feel-good Christmas romance

by Debbie Mason

  “You sound nervous, baby brother.”

  “Only because I know you so well. You’re going after him where it hurts, aren’t you?”

  “Oh yeah. Shay, if you’ve got some time, I’ve got a job for you.”

  “I figured you might. I’ve already opened a file on Summers and his wife. It seems lawyers keep quitting on her and someone is spreading pretty nasty rumors about her.”

  “Summers is a real piece of work.” And Connor had represented him against Arianna. The thought made him sick. “I’ll reach out to the wife today.”

  “We have an appointment with her tomorrow at eleven,” Shay informed him.

  Connor shook his head with a smile. “Lady, you are good. If you weren’t marrying my brother, I’d propose to you right now.” He waited for a reaction from Mike, but all he heard were muffled noises, something falling on the floor, and then some breathless laughter. “Oh, come on, are you two making out?”

  “No. I just dropped my phone,” Shay said, then under her breath, “Michael.”

  “Can you keep your hands off her for five minutes, baby brother? We were having a serious conversation.”

  “You were before—”

  Shay cut off his brother. “I’m sure Summers has a tail on Danica, so I’ve arranged to pick her up at ten. I’ll lose the tail and meet you here by eleven. That way Summers will have no idea what’s coming his way.”

  “Sounds great. Send me what you’ve got so far, and I’ll reach out to her attorneys.”

  “Will do. And just some food for thought: I think the three of us would make a pretty good team.”

  “I don’t know, Shay. Watching my brother moon over you, when he isn’t making out with you, might be hard to take.”

  “You’re just jealous. If Arianna gave you the green light, you’d be—” his brother began before Connor cut him off.

  “Hanging up now,” he said, resting his head against the seat. And to think he’d called his brother for a simple game of golf. Connor needed this though. Already he felt more energized than he had in the past several weeks. This would solve his Arianna problem. He knew himself. If he wasn’t busy, he’d have a hard time giving her space.

  Even though he thought space was the last thing she needed. Somehow, he had to convince her that winning a spot in the mayoral race was the best thing that could have happened to her. They weren’t much different really. Both of them had always been driven and ambitious. They were traits they’d admired in each other. He couldn’t stand the thought of her retreating to her bedroom like she had before.

  He shoved his fingers through his hair. Obviously, he’d need a lot more than one client to keep his mind off Arianna. It was irritating, maybe even a little scary, how quickly she’d become a part of his life again. She probably had no idea how often he thought about her in a day.

  And as much as he’d been pretending it was worry that kept him checking up on her, hanging out with her, it wasn’t. He liked being with her, looking at her, touching her, just listening to her talk. He liked the vulnerability she was able to show him, even though he hated that the fire had stripped away that veneer of toughness she’d worn like a protective skin. When they’d dated, she’d been strong, single-minded, stubborn, but there’d also been a softness, a sweetness. It didn’t matter. Nothing would come of it. She’d made it perfectly clear where she stood on the idea of a relationship with him.

  As he pulled away from the sidewalk, his cell phone buzzed. He looked at the screen and took a second before answering. He was pretty sure Helen didn’t know his number and Arianna was on the other end. If she was, he didn’t want her to pick up on how relieved he was that she was calling. He bowed his head and gave it a shake. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up a lovesick moron like his brother Mike.

  Connor cleared his throat and then said, “Helen, is everything—”

  “It’s not Glamma. It’s me.”

  He couldn’t help himself. He grinned at the irritation in her voice. “Arianna? Is that you?”

  “You know it’s me, Connor. I’m calling from my grandmother’s landline. It shows up on your screen.”

  “I wasn’t sure. Last night you told me you were never speaking to me again, and I know how good you are at holding a grudge, so I thought it might be Jenna.”

  “Well, it’s not. It’s me. And I wouldn’t be speaking to you unless I needed you.”

  “You need me?”

  She huffed. “I don’t need you the way your voice is implying I do.”

  “How is my voice implying I need you?” He winced, wondering if she’d pick up on the pronoun slip.

  “You know exactly how. It’s all deep and gravelly.”

  “I have a deep voice. It’s the same voice I use every day.”

  “Don’t try to wind me up. I’m already wound up enough as it is, thanks to your father.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You have to come get him. He’s planning all these events and speeches for me, and Glamma promised the entire town I would come to their homes and personally thank them. Do you know how many homes there are in Harmony Harbor, Connor? Do you?”

  His amusement of seconds ago faded in response to the panic in her voice. “Calm down,” he said, taking a sharp turn without slowing down. His tires squealed, the smell of burning rubber coming through the vents. “I’m on my way.”

  Less than three minutes later, he was knocking on the door.

  Arianna opened it with a frown. “How did you get here so fast?”

  “You said you needed me. So here I am.” In no way at all did he want that to sound like a come-on, but sexual innuendo would have been better than how it sounded to his ears. Needy. Desperate. The woman would be the death of his alpha-male card. He thought of his brother Mike and shuddered.

  Stepping inside, Connor reached back to close the door. Instead of backing up to usher him into the kitchen, Arianna moved into him and rested a hand on his chest. She smelled good. Her hair was piled on her head in a messy knot. She wore mascara and coral lipstick with a touch of color on her cheeks. He thought it was also a good sign she had on a sweater and leggings instead of pajamas or sweats. There was only one problem: She’d put her sling back on. Still, she looked twenty times better than the day he’d seen her on Mrs. Ranger’s front lawn. There were no longer dark smudges under her eyes, her skin glowed, and the hollows under her cheeks were less pronounced.

  Rising up on her toes, she whispered in his ear, “Don’t tell your dad I called you. Just pretend you stopped by to see me and then figure out a way to get him to leave without hurting his feelings.”

  Connor slid an arm around her waist and brought his mouth to her ear. “He was there when you told me you never wanted to see or speak to me again. I can’t see him believing I’d drop by after that, can you?”

  She drew in a long, aggravated breath, which caused her breasts to rub against his chest. She tried to conceal a small gasp and failed. It sounded like a gasp of want and need to him, but that was probably wishful thinking on his part. And since his mind went to a place of wishful thinking, it took a detour to their conversation the day he’d pulled her bra out of the refrigerator—a black lace number that she’d confessed she could no longer put on by herself. And yes, right then a totally inappropriate and inconvenient question popped into his head. Had she or hadn’t she managed to put on a bra today?

  “I, um, yes, yes, he would. If you tell him you just stopped by, he’ll believe you,” Arianna said, and the way she said it made him think they’d better agree on how they were going to handle this sooner rather than later or he’d have a hard time concealing his desire. Perfect. He’d just taken care of that problem with the thought of walking stiff-legged into the kitchen with his father and Arianna’s grandmother looking on.

  “We need a better excuse. How about you asked me over to apologize to me?” he suggested. The idea worked for him, and he straightened, removing his arm from her waist.

  “Why would I apologize to you
?” She dropped down on her feet, but her hand remained on his chest, her head tipped back. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly parted.

  He slid his arm back around her waist, but this time he didn’t whisper in her ear. Drawing her snug against him, he leaned over her to get a look into the kitchen. “Because nothing I did or said was meant to hurt you. I was just trying to help.” He glanced in the direction of the kitchen table and then returned his gaze to hers. Her eyes darkened and her breathing quickened. “Maybe we should kiss and make up?”

  “Maybe,” she said, adding a small, encouraging nod.

  He smiled and then kissed her, keeping an eye on the kitchen as he did. This kiss was nothing like the one they’d shared on the sidewalk in the pouring rain. That kiss had been fueled by fear and frustration and relief. This one was a soft exploration of lips and a mouth that he could trace and taste from memory. There were only a few things he’d liked more in life than kissing Arianna Bell. He thought of those things now when she touched her tongue to his and the kiss became about much more than memories and making up. If he hadn’t heard the scrape of a chair on hardwood, he might have given in to the temptation to further explore the woman in his arms.

  He drew back, kissing the tip of her nose when she groaned. “If I get rid of my father and your grandmother, will you apologize to me some more?”

  He wanted to groan his own frustration when her expression closed off. He knew what was coming next. She’d shut down any idea that they could have more than whatever this was.

  “I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t have kiss…” She trailed off as though just realizing she was no longer whispering, glancing toward the kitchen before saying, “Apologized to you. I won’t be apologizing to you again.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that.”

  She harrumphed and tossed her head. Her attitude made him laugh, but there was something that didn’t. As she turned to walk away, he hooked his arm around her waist. “Hold up a minute.”

  She looked over her shoulder. “Why? What are—”

  “You know how you don’t like people getting a read on you?” he asked as he brushed aside strands of hair that had fallen loose to get at the fabric knot at her neck.

  “Connor, don’t—” She reached back to pull his hand away.

  “Stop,” he said as he untied the sling. He held it up. “This right here is your tell, Arianna. You’re using the sling like a security blanket. When you’re being pushed out of your comfort zone, back on it goes.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” She went to move away, but he still had his arm around her. “Let me go.”

  “Just give me a minute.” He brought his free hand to her neck and gently kneaded the red mark left by the fabric. She bowed her head, and he drew his arm from around her waist to massage her neck and shoulders with both hands. He felt her relax under his fingers and didn’t want to stop, but Helen and his father were craning their necks to see what was going on. “Better?” he asked, lowering his hands.

  “No. There was nothing wrong with my neck.”

  He couldn’t resist and pressed his lips to her nape. “Liar,” he said, nipping the spot he’d just kissed.

  “Connor, I told you—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re not interested in a relationship.” He could say he wasn’t either, but it wouldn’t be the truth. He sauntered past her into the kitchen, smiling when she blew out an irritated breath behind him. “Hey, Dad, Glamma. Wow, you guys have been busy,” he said, doing a lousy job of keeping his amusement under wraps.

  They’d hung two whiteboards on the kitchen wall and had a gigantic easel in the corner. At the top of one whiteboard there was a drawing of a devil beside his uncle’s name, along with a list of Daniel’s campaign promises and initiatives. On the other there was an angel beside Arianna’s name. So far there was nothing written under her name. Flyer and sign designs littered the kitchen table. He reached for a flyer mock-up to hide his smile and got a light punch in his kidney from Arianna, who stood behind him. He faked a cough to cover his laugh. “I need a coffee. Anyone else want one?”

  “No time for a coffee break, son. Your uncle has months on us. We’re going to have to pull some all-nighters to catch up. We’re up for it though, aren’t we, Helen?”

  “We sure are, Sean. And so are my friends and Arianna’s. They’ll hit the ground running once we have the flyers and signs ready.”

  “You two are quite the team. Uncle Daniel and Mom won’t know what hit them when you debut Arianna’s campaign.”

  “Neither will you,” Arianna muttered, following close on his heels. “You’re supposed to be discouraging them, not encouraging them.”

  Ignoring her, he lifted the coffeepot from the machine and poured himself a cup. “You’ll both be happy to know that Arianna apologized and she’s no longer mad at me, so you can put me back on the team.”

  “We figured it out when we heard you playing kissy face in the entryway. Now get over here and help us come up with a campaign slogan. I was thinking ‘Rise from the Ashes’ because Main Street is rising from the ashes and so is Arianna, but Sean thinks it’s a bit…What was that word you used?”

  His father winced when Arianna lost the color in her face and strode from the room.

  “I think you’d better come up with something else, Glamma,” Connor said. “I’ll be right back.”

  He put his mug of coffee down to follow Arianna. She didn’t go to her bedroom. Instead, she headed out the front door. He wondered if that was because she knew he was coming after her and didn’t think it was a good idea to be shut up in her bedroom with him. She’d be wrong if that was the reason she’d chosen to go outside. The best place for her would be in his arms on a soft mattress with no one watching or interrupting them.

  She ran down the front steps and ducked around the side of the house to the backyard.

  He slowed his pace to give her a few minutes alone. Standing on the front lawn, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and admired the gardens, noting the upturned earth around the oak tree in the center of the yard. He wondered what Helen thought when she saw the holes. Did she know she’d dug up the tulips? He crouched beside the tree and used his hands to fill in the holes and hide the evidence of what she’d done.

  “She came out here at midnight a few weeks ago and dug up her prized tulips. I told her the squirrels did it,” Arianna said, coming to kneel beside him. She smoothed her hand over the hole he’d just filled.

  “Mrs. Ranger told me about it. Good idea to blame the squirrels.”

  “I thought she’d be upset. She doesn’t spend much time in her garden anymore. I wonder if it has anything to do with the…her memory.” She glanced at him. “It’s silly, isn’t it? I’d rather say she has memory problems than dementia, and dementia rather than Alzheimer’s.”

  “No. It’s just starting to sink in. Give yourself time.”

  “Do you think she has time?”

  “Yeah, for sure I do.” He turned and sat under the tree so he could look at her. “Just hear me out, okay? I know you hate the idea of running for mayor. I get it. I do. You feel like you were pushed into—”

  “Manipulated into it.”

  “Okay, point taken. But all that aside—and be honest—did you see how engaged Helen is?”

  “Yes, and I know that staying active and socializing is important, but—”

  “Just a sec. I’m not finished. It’s not just Helen I’m thinking about; it’s my dad. He needs this too. He and my mom, they belong together. And I think this race might be the ticket to getting them back together. My mom’s been at Greystone since February, and this is the longest my dad’s stuck around.”

  “That’s not fair. You want me to stay in the race for my grandmother and your parents.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He did, but he also wanted her to stay in the race for her, and maybe for him, too. Because as much as he saw it as a second chance fo
r his parents, he thought it might also be a second chance for him and Arianna.

  Chapter Ten

  Arianna sat on the stage at the Salty Dog, a pirate-themed pub, looking out at a sea of signs. She’d never seen so many images of herself in her entire life, and she didn’t think she could stand the sight of one more. It had been weeks since Connor had emotionally blackmailed her into staying in the race, and by now she’d fully expected to have gracefully (albeit guiltily) withdrawn her name. But Connor had been right, damn him. Every time she’d hinted at pulling out, Glamma had looked like she was going to have a coronary or go into a deep depression.

  Now Arianna felt like the one about to have a coronary. The signs, buttons, and flyers had arrived two weeks before, and with the help of an enthusiastic team of friends and family, the entire town had been papered with her face and slogan—All in for Arianna. She wasn’t sure they meant it like she was all in. Which clearly wasn’t the case. Or did it mean the entire town was all in with her? Not the case either, as proven by a recent poll in the Gazette, which indicated Daniel was ahead of her by five points. Arianna made sure no one was around when she did a happy dance upon learning the news.

  If she had known the five-point lead would send her campaign managers into overdrive, she would have gone to bed and pulled the covers over her head instead. This week they’d made good on Helen’s promise that Arianna would personally visit every residence in Harmony Harbor. Now they were taking care of the businesses in town with a rally at the Salty Dog. Pretzels and beer were flowing, and so were the buttons and signs.

  Sean had asked her friends, many of whom were local business owners, to say a few words before she made her speech. So far, Mackenzie from Truly Scrumptious had spoken, as well as Lily from In Bloom and Olivia Gallagher, Greystone’s event planner. Even Arianna’s sister Jenna, the manor’s wedding planner, who was less than two weeks from leaving town, had spoken.

  Arianna couldn’t think about that now, not while she was sitting onstage in clear view of what felt like half the town. She smiled at Mr. O’Malley, who winked at her before taking his place behind the podium. The older man operated the local hardware-slash-general store with his son. The senior Mr. O’Malley was a sweet, diminutive man with white tufts of hair over his ears and a mischievous grin. He reminded Arianna of an elf. His black pants were held up by orange suspenders that were decorated with Arianna’s campaign buttons, and he wore a flashing orange bow tie in honor of Halloween being less than ten days away.