Miracle On 5th Avenue

by Sarah Morgan

  A few moments before he’d been desperate to get back to the apartment and write, but now all he wanted was to find out more about her. It was something he’d been born with, this desire to always know more, to look deeper, but he knew that in her case there was something more personal driving him.

  “What happened to your parents?”

  “I never knew my dad. My mom was eighteen and about to start college when she got pregnant. I guess he thought I’d ruined his life. He wanted her to have an abortion and when she wouldn’t he went off to college, and Mom stayed at home with Grams and Gramps. She died when I was born, from some rare complication during delivery. Grams took early retirement so she could stay home with me.”

  Lucas rarely thought about his own childhood. He’d been raised in the supportive cobweb of close family that included parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. His memories were of large gatherings, always noisy because his family was nothing if not opinionated, and of time spent with his brother, of scraped knees, secret hideouts and arguments. There had been nothing there to inspire the darker fiction he wrote. Nothing as lean and spare as the family life she was describing.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Her voice was level. “I never knew my mom and I couldn’t have had a happier childhood. My grandmother always said I was the one who saved them. She and Gramps had lost their only child, but they didn’t have time to fall apart because I was in neonatal intensive care with issues of my own. They virtually lived at the hospital with me and after about six weeks they brought me home. Grams said I was their most precious gift.” She stopped and gazed into a store window, as if she hadn’t just revealed something deeply personal.

  It was a huge revelation, and it left him stunned. Because she was so refreshingly open, he’d assumed he knew everything there was to know about her. She was someone who shared everything, and yet she hadn’t shared this. “I had no idea you lost your mom so young.”

  “It was hard on Grams.”

  “And on you.”

  This new information changed his view of her. It was as if he’d been standing in a shadowy room and someone had suddenly thrown open the shutters and let in the light. He understood now why her grandmother had been everything to her and why she was struggling so deeply with the loss. It explained the seam of vulnerability that he’d sensed within her, and why this time of year, with its emphasis on family and togetherness hurt so much.

  “It didn’t feel hard to me. In my fairy-tale world, Planet Eva as my friends call it—” she flashed him a brief smile “—family isn’t so much about the individual people as what they represent. Family is about love, isn’t it? And security. And that doesn’t have to come from a mother. It can be a father, or an aunt, or in my case, a grandmother. What a child needs is to grow up with the knowledge that they’re loved and accepted for who they are. They need someone who will be there for them no matter what, who they can depend on absolutely so that they know that no matter how many times they screw up, or how many other people have walked away, their family is always there. My grandmother was that person for me. In every way that mattered she was my mother. She loved me unconditionally.”

  And she’d lost that.

  He remembered his grandmother’s words.

  Maybe your listening skills need work.

  He felt a tug of guilt. His grandmother had been right— he hadn’t listened properly to Eva. He’d seen the happy smile and he, who prided himself on always looking deeper, hadn’t looked deeper. He hadn’t seen how lonely she was.

  He found himself wanting to say something reassuring, but what could he say? That the love she was searching for came with a price?

  “Look at that. It’s like a mermaid dress.” There was a note of wonder in her voice and he followed her gaze and saw a long evening dress in graduating shades of blue and turquoise, shot with tiny strands of silver.

  “You believe in mermaids?”

  She lifted her hand like a stop sign. “This is not your cue to say something sarcastic or cynical. And I think the person who gets to wear that dress would definitely believe in mermaids.” She pulled out her phone, took a picture and then sent a quick email.

  “You’re sending it to your fairy godmother?”

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. I’m sharing it with Paige because I know she’d appreciate it.”

  “If you love it, you could come back when they’re open and buy it.”

  “Are you kidding? I couldn’t afford a dress like that in a million years. And even if I could, where would I wear it? I think I’d be a bit overdressed wearing it to watch Netflix while eating grilled cheese sandwiches. But that doesn’t mean I can’t dream.”

  He looked at the dress again. It was a deceptively simple sheath of fabric, but the strands of silver shimmered under the lights. “You could wear it to the ball you’re making me attend.”

  “I already have a dress.” She said it without enthusiasm and he searched her face for clues.

  “But?”

  “But nothing. It’s a great dress. I got it on sale in Bloomingdale’s a couple of years ago when I had a black-tie event to attend.” She looked away from the window. “I’ve had enough dress envy for one night. And you should go back. You have a book to finish.”

  “I’ll go back when you go back.”

  “I’m happy to be left. I walk around New York on my own all the time.”

  “Maybe, but right now you’re with me and I don’t want you to walk on your own.”

  “So underneath that cynical exterior, you’re a gentleman.”

  “It’s because of my cynical exterior that I don’t want you to walk on your own. And now you’ll probably accuse me of being sexist.”

  “I don’t think it’s sexist. I think it’s good manners. My grandmother would have liked you.” Her hair flowed from under the wool hat she wore, honey and buttermilk, with strands of gold catching the light. He wanted to catch it in his hands and feel the texture slip through his fingers.

  “So will you come back with me?”

  “If that’s what it will take to get you writing.” She turned and immediately slipped on a patch of ice.

  He caught her easily, steadying her before she could hit the ground.

  “Careful.”

  Her hand was locked in the front of his coat and he could smell the scent of her hair. It had been a long time since he’d wanted to kiss a woman, but he wanted to kiss Eva. He wanted to kiss her until neither of them could breathe properly, until he didn’t know what day it was and could no longer remember why he’d stayed away from women for so long.

  She was the one who pulled away first. “Are you really not looking forward to the ball?”

  “About as much as I look forward to completing my tax return.”

  “That’s sad. It’s going to be full of wonderful, interesting people.”

  “What’s sad is you believing you can find love in a place like that.”

  “We’re not all lucky enough to meet the love of our life in kindergarten.”

  He knew she was talking about Sallyanne.

  He thought about that first day of school, when Sallyanne had stolen his apple. She’d charged him a ransom to get it back.

  He’d been six years old.

  “You really want to go that badly?”

  “Yes.” She was emphatic. “I promised myself that this Christmas I’d get out. I want to dance until my feet hurt. And meet people. Cinderella wouldn’t have met the prince if she’d stayed in the kitchen.”

  He sidestepped a patch of ice, tightening his grip on her. “He tracked her down across the land. That makes him a seriously disturbed stalker. With a foot fetish.”

  She laughed. “Only you could put that interpretation on it. Go ahead and laugh, but I really want to meet someone and I’m not going to come across anyone trapped indoors. That ball will be full of people like me, having fun, hoping they might get lucky.”

  �
�It will be full of strangers. You won’t know anyone.”

  “I’ll know you.” Her gaze grazed his and then she looked away quickly, as if she’d put her hand in a flame that was going to burn her. “Everyone is a stranger the first time you meet them.”

  “Take some advice from someone who knows more about human nature than you do—be careful how much you reveal.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not stupid and I’ve lived in New York City for a decade.”

  “Your honesty scares me. It’s going to get you into trouble.”

  She gave him an impish grin. “I’m planning on it. I’ve written my letter to Santa, confessing that I intend to be a really, really bad girl this Christmas.”

  “You’re not safe to be let out. Let’s cancel.” They were talking, teasing, both of them ignoring the undercurrent of tension.

  “No. And when it comes to flirting and relationships, you’re as out of practice as I am, so I’d be pretty stupid to take advice from you.” She patted his arm. “Relax.”

  He couldn’t relax when she was standing this close to him. “You’re not serious about being a bad girl?”

  “Oh, I’m serious about that part. But I promise I’ll be careful.”

  “Because you’ll filter what you say?”

  “No, because I’ll use my condom.”

  Ten

  The best accessory is confidence.

  —Paige

  “Head straight for the best-looking guy in the room.” Paige’s voice echoed through the speaker on Eva’s phone. “Text me his name and Jake will do a background check and see if he has any hidden habits you need to know about.”

  “How can he do that? Actually, forget it, I don’t want to know.” Wrapped in a towel, Eva leaned closer to the bathroom mirror as she stroked mascara onto her lashes. “Why are you all so suspicious? You and Frankie are worse than Lucas, and that isn’t a compliment.” She slipped the mascara back into her bag and checked her reflection.

  She already knew who the best-looking man in the room would be, but he was off-limits. There was chemistry, but he seemed to have no problem resisting it.

  He didn’t want what she wanted. And that was why she was resisting it, too.

  “You can’t be too careful, Ev.”

  “Being too careful is probably the reason I haven’t had sex in so long. I’m happy to make a mistake once in a while.” But there was one mistake she wasn’t going to make, and his name was Lucas. Her hand hovered over her choice of lipsticks. “I will not be texting you and you will not be conducting illicit background checks or whatever else you have in mind. Tonight I am using that old-fashioned method of doing a check on someone. It’s called using my instincts.”

  “Not sure that’s foolproof in a place like New York City.”

  “Relax.” She went with a shimmery pink. “And now I have to go. I still have to get dressed.”

  “What are you wearing?”

  “I don’t know why you’re asking me that when we both know I only have one dress suitable for a black-tie event.”

  “The black one? You look great in that.”

  “We both know it’s boring, but I couldn’t afford to splurge for just a few hours. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She turned and gave a gasp of fright.

  Lucas was standing in the doorway watching her, the expression in his dark brown eyes stealing the breath from her lungs.

  “Holy crap, you scared me.” She pressed her palm to her chest. “Is this another of your horror-writer party tricks? Lurking in the doorway and giving your victims a heart attack?”

  He was already dressed, the fabric of his dinner jacket hugging the dense muscle of his shoulders.

  “I knocked. You didn’t hear me.”

  The fact that he was dressed made her all the more aware of her own seminakedness.

  She clutched the towel self-consciously. “So you thought you’d come right on in anyway and make me jump out of my skin. An innovative way of skinning your victims.”

  His smile connected straight to her insides.

  She tried to hitch the towel higher but realized that just revealed more of her thighs. The bathroom felt too small and there was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there earlier. A slow, lethargic heat spread through her. Her nerve endings tingled and her stomach contracted into a tight knot. It was the same feeling she always had around him, but she knew she had to ignore it. “What do you want, Lucas?” Frustration made her unusually irritable.

  “I bought something for you. It’s on the bed.”

  She walked past him into the bedroom and stopped.

  There, carefully spread out on the bed, was the blue dress she’d admired in the window.

  “It’s the mermaid dress.” Her heart in her throat, she turned to look at him. “I told you I couldn’t afford it.”

  “But I can, and it’s a gift. Not that I’m an expert in the whole fairy-tale approach to relationships, but when a girl meets Prince Charming,” he drawled, “I’m guessing it’s probably best not to do it while wearing a wet towel.”

  He’d bought her a dress? “I already have a dress.”

  “A dress that didn’t make you excited. If we’re going to this damn ball, then at least you’re going to feel excited. I’ll leave you to change.” There was a raw, sexy quality to his voice that suggested that if he didn’t he’d be helping her undress.

  She stared after him for a moment and then shook her head to dispel the dizzy clouds of longing.

  He’d bought her a dress. Not just a dress but the dress.

  She should probably refuse, but it was gorgeous. Easily the most gorgeous thing she’d ever owned. Refusing would be rude, wouldn’t it? And the fact that he’d seen how much she wanted it, and bought it for her—

  Her imagination raced, taking her pulse with it.

  Why? Why had he bought it? What did it mean?

  She hadn’t even realized she had tears in her eyes until she had to blink to clear her vision.

  Crap.

  It didn’t mean anything except that he was generous. She absolutely couldn’t get soppy about Lucas. The point of going to the ball was to meet someone, not fall for a man who didn’t want a relationship.

  * * *

  Lucas poured himself a drink. He knew it was going to be the first of several if he had any hope of getting through the evening ahead.

  His tux felt uncomfortable, as if it belonged to someone else, but he knew the problem didn’t lie with the clothes. It lay in the woman in the next room.

  “How do I look?” Eva’s voice came from behind him and he downed the whiskey in the glass and turned.

  He was grateful that he’d swallowed before looking.

  “You look—” His mouth dried and he licked his lips. What the hell had he done? He was finding it hard enough to keep his hands off her, and he’d just made it even harder.

  “What? You were going to say something?” She stroked her palms over the curve of her hips and gave him a shy smile. “It fits perfectly.”

  “Yes.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Good.”

  “How?”

  He tried to absorb the question but his brain had ceased to function normally. “How what?”

  “How does it fit so perfectly? Did you drug me and measure me in your sleep? Did you steal one of my dresses and send it to the store?” She lifted her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. “Listen to me! I’m starting to sound like you. You’ve turned me into a suspicious cynic in less time than it takes to bake a cake. Are you proud?”

  He wasn’t sure what he was, but it was very uncomfortable.

  “Say something.” Her hand dropped. “It isn’t easy finding clothes to fit me. I’m a weird shape. How did you do it?”

  Her shape looked perfect to him.

  “I called your friend Paige. As I’m officially now a client of Urban Genie, it entitles me to full concierge services. I can ask you to send flowers to my grandmother, bake me a cak
e or walk my dog.”

  “You don’t have a dog and I just spoke to Paige a few minutes ago. She asked me what I was wearing.”

  “I guess she was trying to work out if I’d given you the dress.”

  She twirled, throwing him a cheeky look over her shoulder. “So what do you think? Am I going to get lucky tonight?”

  He looked past the dazzle of blue to the irrepressible smile. It was a sure thing. What man in his right mind wouldn’t want to go home with her?

  “I think it could happen.” And he felt a flicker of unease, because she was so willing and ready and open to love. She had no barriers, no fears, no filter.

  Had he ever been that way? Maybe, before life had ripped at his hopes and sprinkled the remains around him like confetti.

  “I expect you to introduce me to everyone you know. And if you’re going to score tonight yourself, you need to look extra handsome.” She stood on tiptoe and adjusted his bow tie, the soft scent of her perfume enveloping him. She smelled like summer, like a bunch of freshly picked flowers, like sunshine and long lazy days. He wanted to bury his hands in her hair and taste her mouth. And he didn’t want to stop there.

  He could do it right now. He could take this thing to its natural conclusion and he was confident she’d be right there with him.

  And then what? What happened afterward?

  Heat rose inside him and he tried holding his breath, hoping that whatever she was doing to his bow tie, she’d get it done fast.

  “I gave up ‘scoring’ in my teens.”

  The backs of her fingers brushed against his throat. “I’m sure. But maybe that’s the first step forward for you.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to take that step.” He couldn’t stop looking at her mouth. The lipstick she’d chosen was barely more than a shimmer, but it was enough to hold his attention. “Maybe I’m happy staying where I am.”

  “Not an option, Blade. Now smile.”

  “I’m going to a ball. Why would I smile?”

  “Because your smile is sexier than your scowl, and for you, tonight is all about pulling women.”

  “I can’t believe you’re saying that.”