Winter's Kiss (In Shady Grove 7)

by Beth Andrews

  She made a humming sound and sipped her drink. He’d been watching her, all right. He’d been seated up front, in the first pew with his family, his father’s wheelchair at the far end, then Oakes, then, after a huge empty space, Kane’s mother. The only way he could have known she was crying—since she was sitting near the back—was if he’d been glancing over his shoulder trying to find her.

  “Weddings make me emotional,” she said, getting a warm feeling from knowing he’d sought her out. “And when Charlotte recited her vows and said that she wasn’t expecting Kane, wasn’t expecting to fall in love with him but was so glad she’d opened her heart to the wonderful man he is, well, let me tell you, we were all bawling.”

  Oakes frowned, looking right at home in his expensive suit, the champagne flute held lightly in his hand. This was his scene, she realized. What he’d been born into. High-end, catered events with fancy drinks and food and classy music in the background. Men and women dressed to the nines all chatting about stock prices, or how difficult it was to find a gardener who knew how to prune gardenias properly, or if they were going to spend their summer traveling across Europe or at the summer house in Maine.

  She frowned, the champagne she’d sipped turning sour in her stomach. That had been a bit judgmental of her and not exactly the kind of thoughts she wanted to have for the man in front of her. Yes, he was used to fancy parties and small talk and high society events. But he wasn’t a snob.

  “What do you mean, you were all bawling?” he asked.

  “Me and the women sitting in the pew with me. I tell you what, we were all wrecks. It started when Charlotte’s dad started crying before he’d even walked her down the aisle and it only got worse from there. Luckily, we were well stocked with tissues.” She accepted a chilled shrimp from a server. “What did you think of it?”

  “Of you all crying?”

  “No. Of the ceremony.”

  He’d looked so handsome pushing his father’s wheelchair up the aisle, his smile warm and welcoming to everyone. But she hadn’t been able to see his face, hadn’t caught his expression to see what he’d thought of his brother’s wedding.

  Oakes had invited her to sit with them but she’d declined, not wanting to intrude on his family. She’d been perfectly fine on her own, had chatted with her pew-mates and enjoyed being at the wedding.

  “It was nice,” he said.

  She almost choked on her drink but didn’t want to waste one drop of the delicious liquid so she forced herself to swallow. “Nice? That’s all you have to say?”

  He shifted. Looked uncomfortable, like a schoolboy being called on when he didn’t know the answer. “What else is there to say? Every wedding I’ve ever been to has been pretty similar. The location might change, the participants sure did, but they all follow the same format. Play a few songs. Recite vows. Exchange rings. Kiss. This one was as nice as any other.”

  “Men,” she said with a sigh. Even Oakes, who she’d thought to be above such typical male behavior, was clueless when it came to such things. “It was lovely. Sentimental and personal and special.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Like I said. Nice.”

  “Well, at least there weren’t any peeing dogs,” she said, earning herself a sharp look from an older woman as she passed them.

  Oakes’s lips twitched. “And I haven’t seen any pigs spinning on a spit.”

  They clinked glasses in a silent toast. She slid closer to his side so a couple could pass. “Were you upset about not being asked to be best man?”

  She’d wondered if his feelings had been hurt, if that was why he didn’t think the ceremony had been anything other than just nice. Everyone who knew the Bartasaviches knew that Oakes was a favorite among them. His easygoing personality, kindness and natural charm made him a favorite. So it had come as a surprise to some that Kane had asked C.J. to stand beside him on his wedding day when those two were usually butting heads.

  “Why would I be upset?” Oakes asked.

  “Well, I just thought you were...closer to Kane.” Not that Zach had said so specifically, but it was pretty clear that C.J. wasn’t the easiest person to get along with and could definitely rub people the wrong way with his arrogance and bossiness.

  “Kane and C.J. grew up together,” Oakes pointed out. “They’re closer in age and spent more time together than I spent with either of them. Remember, we were only together on every other weekend and alternating holidays—and during most of those, my father was working, leaving us to our own devices. Which enabled C.J. and Kane to take off and hang out with their friends. So, no, I wasn’t upset. I was glad Kane asked C.J. They’ve had some problems and it’s nice knowing they’re at least working through them, especially now that Kane’s married and C.J.’s a dad.”

  He nodded toward Ivy, who was stunning in a cobalt-blue dress, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders. Not even the newborn in her arms could make her look less sexy, and it was a toss-up to say which one of them was getting more attention. “Your nephew is adorable,” Daphne said. She’d had a chance to hold him while Ivy used the restroom.

  Oakes grinned and it was pure delight and pride. “Yeah, he’s pretty great. It’s fun being around a baby. We weren’t around Estelle when she was that age so we missed that stage.”

  “You like kids,” she said, her heart—already so full for him, of him—threatening to overflow.

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “My sixth-grade gym teacher for one, but let’s not get into that as it only gives me nightmares. I think my mom wanted more kids but...” She stopped. Swallowed. But her dad wasn’t exactly the type of person who should be around adults, let alone children. She shook her head. “Of course, it didn’t happen, but I love when my cousins bring over their babies and little ones. Mom does, too—she dotes on them. I think she’s already pining for grandkids, though I’ve told her not to hold her breath waiting for me as I have years of schooling to get through.” After she got her Master’s degree, she planned on going for her doctorate.

  “What about Zach?”

  “I used to think he’d settle down someday, quit the service, find a nice girl—Catholic if my mother had any say, Mexican would be even better—buy a house next to Mom’s and raise his own family of dark-haired kids, who’d be as silent and grumpy as their dad, but now... I don’t know. I wouldn’t say the bombing changed him, but that’s what scares me. He’s so determined to act as if nothing has changed, as if what he went through was some minor setback and he’ll be back on his feet—God, no pun intended—again in no time.”

  Oakes touched the back of her hand, just a light, gentle caress of his fingertip, but it told her that he cared. “He’ll be okay. He needs time to work through it. On his own, in his own time.”

  “I know. It’s so annoying. I want to help him. I want to force him to turn to me, to talk to me, to open up and tell me what he’s thinking, how he feels. But all I get out of him is that he’s fine and then he takes off, doing his rehab, pushing himself to get better faster.”

  “He knows you’re there for him. He’ll come to you when he’s ready. You can’t force someone to accept help.”

  A man with an honest-to-God handlebar mustache approached Oakes and started a conversation. Daphne kept smiling politely but all she could think about were Oakes’s last words. How she couldn’t force Zach to come to her.

  And she realized the same held true for Oakes. She’d backed off on the flirting, as she’d promised, realizing that going too fast would only hurt her chances of him taking her seriously. She’d thought if she backed off, let him take control, he’d come to his senses and see how good they could be together.

  But what if she was wrong? She couldn’t force him to come to her, to think of her as something other than Zach’s little sister.

  For the first time since she decided to go after him, to pursue
a relationship with him, she had the most horrible, heart-wrenching thought.

  What if she failed?

  * * *

  SOMETHING WAS GOING on with Daphne and Oakes didn’t like it one bit.

  She’d refused to sit with him and his family during the dinner. Had insisted on sitting at a table with two of the women she’d met at the church—all the way across the room. He’d tried to tell her that she was more than welcome to sit with them. Had told himself that the only reason he’d asked her was because she was Zach’s sister and he was looking out for her. Because no matter what the circumstances leading up to it, she was his date. But as the reception went on and he found himself searching her out time after time, he realized he was lying to himself.

  He didn’t like it. Didn’t like that he’d taken to fooling himself. Didn’t like that he was making excuses to want to be near her, to spend more time with her.

  He was a grown man. A grown successful man, he reminded himself. One who’d gotten everything he’d ever set out to get. Achieved any goal he’d sought. And now he was going crazy over Zach’s little sister, questioning himself and his motives, trying to talk himself out of approaching her because she’d been smiling and talking to some man almost all night. A guy closer to her own age, who apparently made her laugh. One who couldn’t possibly have any ties to her family.

  The guy leaned in and said something that had Daphne laughing. The man’s body language made it clear he found her interesting. Attractive.

  Not surprising given Daphne’s personality and wit. Not to mention how gorgeous she looked in a sequined, low-cut black top and frothy black skirt.

  This was what he’d wanted, he reminded himself as he stood in the dimly lit corner near the bar nursing a beer. What she’d offered him last night and he’d taken hold of—her friendship. Nothing more. At least, not at this moment.

  Oh, he knew what she was up to, what she’d thought would happen when she’d offered it. She’d thought that by going back to how things used to be between them—platonic friendship—by giving him space, he’d realize what he was missing out on with her. That he’d miss her. That he’d be the one to do the chasing.

  Damn her. She was right.

  He set down his beer and crossed the room, his gaze never leaving her face as she laughed at something the other man said. When he reached her, she sent him that same warm smile, the one he wanted her to give only him. “Oakes. Do you know Justin? He works with Charlotte at the hospital. He’s an ER doctor. Justin, this is one of Kane’s brothers, Oakes Bartasavich.”

  Oakes shook the doctor’s hand but wasn’t happy about it. “Nice to meet you. I hope you don’t mind,” he continued before the doctor could say anything, “if I steal Daphne away for a few minutes? Family business.”

  Before she could object or ask what type of family business, Oakes had taken her drink from her, handed it to the doctor and swept her away, his palm on her lower back.

  “What’s going on?” she asked as they maneuvered their way around the tables. She was breathless, probably because he was walking so quickly, expecting her to keep up in those high heels of hers. “Is something wrong?”

  He stopped at the far end of the dance floor. A slow, melodic song was playing and he swept her up in his arms. Started dancing. “No.”

  “No?” she repeated, her eyes narrowed. She wasn’t dancing so much as swaying because he was holding her so close, she had no choice but to follow his lead. “What do you mean no?”

  “I wanted to dance with you,” he said, sounding as curt as Kane, as arrogant as C.J., as uncommunicative as Zach.

  Now she crossed her arms, right there on the dance floor while he continued moving, his hands on her waist. “You could have just asked, you know.”

  He tried smiling at her, charming her. “I didn’t want to take the chance of you saying no.”

  She sighed, her shoulders relaxing, and she finally unbent enough to slide her hands up to his shoulders and start dancing for real. “Nothing ventured,” she reminded him, “nothing gained. And it’s good for us to be told no once in a while. Especially a Bartasavich.”

  “That’s what I keep hearing.”

  But she was right—he’d rarely experienced being refused anything from anyone. If his last name didn’t get him what he wanted, he could always count on his intelligence and his charm to work. Or, if the situation called for it, hard work and lots of it. He wasn’t afraid to fail in most areas of his life maybe because he hadn’t experienced true failure before.

  And he didn’t want to start here, tonight, with Daphne.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look?” he asked, his voice low.

  “Nope. I figured even if you did think I looked good, you wouldn’t tell me so I wouldn’t get the wrong idea or get my hopes up that you were ready to take our relationship to the next level.”

  He stared at her and she smiled knowingly. How the hell could she read him so clearly?

  “Well, you do,” he said, not sounding happy about it.

  “I do what?”

  He shook his head but couldn’t stop a smile. Held her gaze. “You look beautiful.”

  She swallowed, her fingers tightening on his shoulders for a moment. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I was hoping you’d think so.”

  He did. And that was the problem. He needed to stop thinking about her, needed to put some distance between them, get them back on solid ground as friends.

  Instead, the more he was around her, the more he wanted to be with her. She’d cast a spell over him. One he couldn’t break, even if he wanted to.

  * * *

  STROBE LIGHTS FLASHED, the lights giving Luke a headache, and the music thumped through his veins as he slouched against the wall and watched the people on the dance floor. There weren’t many. A Christmas Eve dance was good in theory but most people hung out with their families the night before Christmas. Still, it was a Shady Grove High tradition, one started before even Luke’s parents had gone here.

  One he wished he’d skipped altogether.

  His friends had long ago stopped trying to get him out there, had given up on trying to get him out of his rotten mood.

  That was fine. He didn’t want to ruin their nights, was considering taking off anyway. His folks wanted him home early so they could all go to midnight Mass together. He wasn’t having any fun here anyway, and he doubted that would change. But he didn’t move, just kept scanning the crowded dance floor, his gaze skimming over Kennedy’s bright hair even though she looked incredible in a short, tight green dress and high-heeled boots that showed off her toned legs. But he didn’t want Kennedy.

  He wanted Gracie and he’d blown it. He didn’t even know what he’d done. He frowned. Slouched even lower—pretty soon he’d be doing a damn squat—and huffed out a breath. Okay, so he knew what he’d done. But he’d apologized and she’d thrown it back in his face.

  Now he didn’t know what the hell he should do.

  But he did know what he wanted to do.

  So when he finally spied her dancing with a group including Bryce, he straightened. Watched her like some damn stalker until the song changed—as did his luck, because she started walking toward him. No, not him, he realized when she didn’t so much as glance his way, but toward the doors that led to the hallway.

  He followed, taking his time, trying to be supercasual about it. Too casual, it turned out, because by the time he reached the hall, she was nowhere in sight. He glanced around, figured she went to use the restroom and waited, nodding as people passed, saying hello to those he knew. Finally, she came out, headed toward him. Her steps slowed when she noticed him there, her mouth turned down at the corners.

  And he hated the way she looked—Gracie should always be smiling. Happy.

  “Hey,” he said, walking right up to he
r, knowing if he didn’t, she’d brush past him without a word. Without giving him a chance to talk to her, to apologize again. But the one word had come out like a croak and he winced, clearing his throat. “Hey,” he repeated, forcing her to respond because Gracie was too nice not to.

  “Hello, Luke,” she said in a calm, cool tone he didn’t like at all, that he’d never heard her use before, not with him.

  “You...uh...you look really pretty,” he blurted, because it was the truth. Her hair was down and her cheeks flushed from dancing. She had on a long, gray skirt and lacy black top.

  She frowned, as if being complimented was a bad thing. “Thank you.”

  “Are you enjoying the dance?” he asked quickly in case she thought she could send him a cold greeting like that and be on her merry way.

  “Yes.”

  He nodded. “I thought so. You looked...you look like you’re having fun.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

  “No. No, just that you seem to be having fun. That’s all.” She’d been laughing and dancing with her friends and Bryce. The slow dances Luke had witnessed, where the two of them had swayed to the music, had just about killed him. “Look, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just... I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Obviously,” she said, indicating him waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. “Well? What do you want to talk about?”

  “I want to apologize,” he said, tugging her over to a corner when a group of giggling sophomore girls came toward them. “Again, for what happened at your house last night. I’m really sorry, Gracie. I didn’t mean to move so fast. You have to believe me. It’s just...when I kissed you and you kissed me back like that—”

  “Like what?” she asked sharply.

  He felt as if he was walking into quicksand and sinking fast. “Just...like you liked me, too.” She didn’t deny that she liked him and that gave him hope so he continued. “I didn’t mean to take advantage of you, I swear.” He edged closer. “I just... I really like you, Gracie, and you were right, it was stupid of me to wait so long to tell you. I don’t have any excuses except that I was really messed up after Kennedy cheated on me and I didn’t want to use you as a rebound. And I was scared of falling for someone else when I’d just been ripped apart by my last girlfriend.”