A gut punch hit Dominic. Had he stuck around in the waiting room, things between Waverly and Vera would never have escalated. Dominic had no doubt in his mind Waverly would win the runoff. This just secured the amount of time they’d be apart. Three months had nearly killed him. Dominic ground his back molars together for a moment to calm his nerves. “How is the baby?”
“Kenny is fine, fat and happy.”
“Good.” Dominic nodded. Prior to his father dying, Dominic had never thought about settling down with a ring. Now? He wanted a wife. He didn’t want to die alone with what little family he had left hating him. A lump formed in the back of his throat with the idea. He refused to get choked up over a man like that. “Did I mention I am pleased to hear you’re singing? You have a beautiful voice.”
“Thank you,” Waverly said as she propped her elbow on the table and covered her smile by resting her chin in her hand. “Since I don’t see your name on the revised agenda, I’m guessing Anson didn’t have time.”
I bet, Dominic thought bitterly. “Tell me about these Advent calendars. What can I do to help?” But Dominic began too late. Mayor Ascot entered the room dressed in a dark suit with a flashy Christmas tie instead of his usual ascot. Some of the ladies at Miss Annie’s table gushed at the sight. Are you kidding me? Dominic thought.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Ascot started. “What can I say? We survived Thanksgiving and Black Friday, and our Small Business Saturday brought in quite the crowd of out of towners. Good job and congratulations.”
A round of applause broke out.
Anson calmed everyone down by lowering his hands in a repetitive motion. “Since we’ve held off on the holiday decorations, with the exception of the lights on Main Street for the shoppers, I’m sure everyone is ready to get started with their own Christmas decorations. We have a lot of items on the agenda today. We’ve got to discuss where to put the town tree.”
Dominic had a nice suggestion. He would suggest shoving it right up the mayor’s ass.
“We’ve got the neighborhood-decorating contest and we need to decide if we’re going to allow entries who used the services of Macy Cuomo-Rodriguez’s Winter Wonderland.”
Someone in the back of the room coughed and, beneath that cough, said a name, “Rhonda.”
The accused woman named Rhonda sat at a table beside Dominic and Waverly’s. She stood up with her hands on her hips and faced the room. A stack of bracelets jingled as she turned to face her accusers. “Y’all can’t prove I didn’t decorate my house.”
“You’ve kept your porch lights off the week before Thanksgiving,” someone shouted from the back of the room. “And the day after Thanksgiving, all of a sudden your place is lit up.”
Waverly leaned in to Dominic. “Winter Wonderland does all the holiday decorating over South Georgia and North Florida,” she explained. “And to enter your house with Macy’s designs is like rigging the amateur decorating.” Macy Cuomo-Rodriguez was a professional Christmas decorator who dolled up the outsides and insides of the homes of people who lacked the vision or time to do so themselves.
“I see,” Dominic said with a nod. “Do you decorate?”
Waverly nodded. “Not like I’d want to. The condo has limited space. But my balcony is going to be on point.”
Good thing she is still at the condo, Dominic thought. His brothers were coming soon. Dominic had it in his mind to have a decorating party at the ranch. Waverly needed to come.
Rhonda began to clap her hands at the one accuser in the back in order to silence him. Anson had to bang his gavel. “Let’s get back to order. We’ll take a vote later on, maybe meet next week. Right now I’d like to go ahead and change some things around on the agenda.”
Finally, Dominic thought. Maybe Anson was going to come through with adding him.
“We have our local celebrity here with us today,” Anson said, holding his arm out toward Dominic’s table...or more or less at Waverly. “Our very own Miss Southwood, Waverly Leverve.”
With her hand in the air, Waverly turned and waved like a true beauty queen. “Thank you, Mayor, but you really don’t have to single me out every time I attend.”
“I just want you to know it’s our pleasure to you have you here, Miss Southwood,” the mayor gushed. “We know your time is precious and I’m hoping no one has any objections to allowing Miss Southwood to go first.”
“It’s really not necessary,” Waverly said with a red tint to her cheeks.
“Well, okay, we’ll continue with the agenda as regularly planned.” The way Anson cut his eyes in Dominic’s direction told him the mayor hadn’t planned on letting him speak today. Thank God for his secret weapon.
The council continued on. Dominic listened to everyone vote on who would be on the judging panel. Miss Annie made it. Some of the ladies at her table got on to the food committee, which sat at the judging table for the Christmas cookie contest held at the elementary school. Southwood Middle School would host the Christmas dance for kids and then the adults would get a dance at the Southwood High.
“And now we get to hear from Miss Southwood.” Anson inclined his head toward Waverly. He stepped aside for her to join him at the podium, something Dominic noticed the mayor did not do for the other presenters.
Waverly gave Dominic a slight wink as she rose from her seat but didn’t move toward the stage. “Hi, everyone.” She gave a friendly wave with both hands.
Everyone greeted Waverly with a round of applause.
“I don’t want take up too much of your time. I just wanted to remind everyone about the donations of your services and goods for the girls at Grits and Glam Studios. The proceeds will help send everyone to the pageant in the spring. Friday is December 1. Grits and Glam is ready to sell the 3-D Southwood Advent Calendars. Most of you have already turned in goodies but I’m missing a few days for a hundred calendars.” Waverly paused for a moment to peer around the room. Judging from the bowed heads, it was easy to decipher who was slacking. “I would love to have everything complete by the time I leave this evening.”
Dominic sat back in amazement at the list Waverly had placed on his table. Several companies were listed. He assumed the ones with a black check mark had already fulfilled their promises. He was impressed. He scanned the list of businesses she’d collected from already: coupons for The Scoop, movie passes for the drive-in theater and the indoor theater, and enough other discounts to make up the twenty-four-day countdown.
“If y’all don’t mind,” Waverly began, “I have one more thing to introduce.”
“By all means,” said the mayor.
“Good,” said Waverly. “I’d like to introduce, or maybe reintroduce, Dominic Crowne.”
“Oh, look,” Anson said drily, “it’s Mr. Waverly, Miss Southwood’s handmaiden.”
The applause Dominic received wasn’t as loud as Waverly’s, but at least it was something that covered up the mayor’s remarks. Waverly continued, “I am guessing there was a mistake in Dominic not being on the agenda, so I thought I’d share my time with him. You all may like his idea for the parade.”
Dominic took his cue and rose to his feet. Like Waverly, he spoke from his table. He gave his speech about the antique cars he recently acquired whose dates of manufacture stretched all the way back to the twenties, which would add authenticity to the parade and the wardrobes. And with Dominic hiring drivers, the townspeople would be able to enjoy more of the Southwood through the decades. He waited with bated breath for some form of reaction. Kenzie started the slow clap of approval. Relieved, Dominic nodded his head in thanks at Waverly.
“This is a perfect idea with our theme.” Kenzie, short in stature but with a big voice, made her way to the podium. “And great timing, too. I’ve got a few couples from out of town who heard about Waverly’s idea and want to donate. If my calculations are right, we’ll hav
e clothes from the Civil War.”
“Oh my God, Kenzie!” Waverly cheered.
“I’m glad you think so, Miss Southwood,” Kenzie said with a wink. “Can I pull you away from your pageant duties to pick them up?”
Waverly shook her head. “Kenzie,” she drawled the name with her Southern accent, “you do remember I still get lost in town.”
The comment drew friendly giggles and nods, agreeing with Waverly’s statement. A few people called out a few times and places they’d had to set Waverly on the right path. The best idea came to mind for Dominic. He would be willing to take her wherever she needed to go.
“If it’s driving around town yourself,” Ascot began, but Kenzie quieted him down by pressing her folder against his chest. “I bet with Dominic back, he can take over bringing Miss Southwood to her appearances, and you can focus on your job in city hall,” Kenzie said to the politician. “It’s a win-win situation, don’t you think, Mayor?”
At that moment Dominic wanted to pull Kenzie off the stage and swing her around in joy. By the time the meeting ended, everyone clapped Dominic on the back and welcomed him back into the Southwood fold. It was nice feeling: like a hero. He finally belonged somewhere. Take that, John Crowne.
* * *
When the meeting was officially over, Waverly finished up collecting the coupons from the members from the Commerce of Business. She accepted their donations and apologies and placed everything in its appropriate folder. All she had to do was put the calendars in their boxes. Perhaps she’d overachieved by making 3-D replicas of downtown Southwood. Twenty-four boxes were spread out around the picture of town. She’d spent all summer and fall getting the orders perfected. Thank God she had nothing to do tomorrow.
Waverly headed over to the table with the refreshments and selected one of Miss Annie’s cookies shaped as Scottish terriers dressed in Christmas sweaters. A smudge of red icing smeared against the side of her index finger. Waverly debated what to do next: lick the icing off her finger and risk getting icing from the cookie on her nose, or use her common sense and set her binder on the table with the rest of the food.
“I would pay you any amount of money to lick the icing off your finger or any body part.”
Feeling his breath against the back of her neck was enough to make Waverly lose her appetite. She set the cookie down on the top napkin of a stack and did the deed of getting the icing off herself. The sound of Anson’s guttural growl evoked the image of an Elvis lip curl. “Go away, Anson.”
“Do you know how eligible I am?” Anson asked, walking around to face Waverly.
In truth, Anson would be considered a handsome man. Some women went for the clean-cut, all-American guy.
“I’m well aware,” Waverly responded with a yawn. She didn’t need to hear his credentials again. It was unfortunate he couldn’t take the hint. “And I hope for Christmas you get someone who truly values you.”
Anson leaned his hip against the long table. The ice cubes in the crystal punch bowl jingled in the red liquid. “What I really want is you.”
“Can you please not do this here?” Waverly asked, hugging her binder close to her chest.
“What?” Anson actually had the nerve to act surprised. His eyes lit up, and his brows rose. “Where would you like to do this? On a date?”
“No, thank you,” Waverly answered quickly.
“We have a good time when we’re together, Waverly.”
“You have a great time showing me off like a bauble,” Waverly clarified once more.
“The Christmas dance for the grown-ups is the twenty-second. What do you say we go together? ‘The Mayor and the Beauty Queen’ makes for a nice headline, don’t you think?”
Anson advanced. Waverly refused to be intimidated by his nonverbal threat. She was about to square her shoulders when a set of beefy hands pressed down on hers and spun her around. Dominic’s cocky grin spread before he dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers. Unlike the kiss last night outside his garage, this was friendlier—a peck or even a soft press of lips against hers. And she wanted more.
Dominic pulled away. His finger touched a spot just under her lip where she figured her lipstick might have smeared.
“Excuse me?” Anson asked, oblivious of what he’d just said to her just before Dominic came to her rescue. “While I understand you played handmaiden a few months ago for Miss Southwood, are you trying to get her kicked off the pageant circuit for violating the morality clause?”
Remembering they weren’t alone, Waverly stepped beside Dominic, somehow melting into the crook of his arm. Dominic wrapped his arm around her in a protective manner. For a moment she thought he was giving Anson a thumbs-up, but she followed Anson’s glance to the ceiling above them.
“Mistletoe. It is tradition.” Dominic explained. “I’d get that checked out, Anson.”
Anson’s dark eyes narrowed on Dominic. Waverly practically felt his rage vibrate on the thin gray carpeted floor. “What am I supposed to get checked out?”
“Your slow response to things.” Dominic sighed. He slipped his hand into his pocket and extracted a business card. “Dr. Rayland is the best CTE doc around.”
“What?”
“Chronic traumatic encephalopathy, Anson.” Dominic pressed his forefinger to his temple. “I understand you played a lot of football in your day. Maybe you should get it checked out.”
Stiffening, Anson shook his head. He crumpled the card in his large hands. “What makes you think I need him?”
“Well, for starters, you overlooked the email request I sent to you—” Dominic shook his head “—and then you didn’t even take advantage of the mistletoe with this beautiful woman standing underneath it.”
Waverly, smitten with Dominic, stood by wordlessly. The peck was friendly and innocent enough but still hinted at the underlying desire still bubbling between them. She had so many things to say and just as she opened her mouth, she was called up to the podium. Dominic offered her a wink as she apologetically walked away.
Chapter 8
The morning after the council meeting, Waverly woke up with a stretch. It wasn’t until sometime after midnight she’d fallen asleep. Every time she’d closed her eyes she felt Dominic’s lips against hers. Her body ached for his touch again. Hell, had Kenzie not interrupted them last night, Waverly could have easily been talked into going home with him—Morality Committee be damned.
She checked the time on her cell phone and slipped out of bed. In her fuzzy pink slippers and white nightgown, Waverly went toward the bathroom for her morning routine. Afterward, she got into a pair of shredded pale denim shorts, a red-and-white-striped shirt and one of her favorite tiaras she’d won when she was switched from toddler to teen pageants.
Waverly headed into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Though the two-bedroom condo belonged to Lexi, Waverly had started to make the place home. Funny how when Waverly first came to Southwood, it was to hide from the world, but now she was invested in the community.
Something was missing in the condo. Waverly glanced around the spotless room. About fifty more calendars were spread out conveyor-belt-style for Waverly to assemble today. Then she realized there was a lack of coffee smell filling the air. She headed into the small kitchen area and sighed in despair. The green lights of the microwave flashed an odd time. From the numbers she gathered the power had gone out four hours ago, which meant her automatic coffee maker didn’t go off. There was no way she could finish the project without a cup of brew.
The spacious living room with the long ivory curtains drawn open gave the perfect view of downtown Southwood. Green wires spilled out of a box, and with the breeze flowing in from the balcony, red and green reflections of the bulbs were splayed across the white carpet. Now that the Thanksgiving holidays were over, she was officially able to start decorating her
balcony.
A knock came at the door at the same time her cell phone buzzed. Her mother’s face appeared on the phone screen. Waverly grinned to herself. She loved that picture of her mother as a beauty queen in her teens. Waverly slid the button over to answer the call.
“Well, I was beginning to worry,” said Jillian in her cool voice.
“Hi, Ma.” Waverly sighed and lifted herself on tiptoe to peek through the peephole. Her eyes met the emblem of an animated smiling cup of coffee. No one bearing coffee could be dangerous.
“You took a while to answer the phone.”
“It rang three times,” said Waverly. She opened the door and gasped at the sight of Dominic standing in front of her, coffee in his large hand. “Oh my God, you’re my savior.”
Waverly accepted the hot cup and opened the door wider. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been in her condo before, yet a feeling of nervousness washed over her. Waverly cocked her head to the side for a glimpse of his butt. He wore a pair of his signature jeans, the kind that hugged every muscle of his legs, and a thin T-shirt, this one red.
“Waverly.” Jillian’s voice came to life on the other end of the line. “Waverly, what’s going on?”
“Nothing, Ma.” Waverly shook her head to focus on the woman who gave her birth. “I have company.”
“Who is coming by this early in the morning?”
“A coffee god, Ma.”
Dominic, making a beeline to the kitchen, laughed. No surprise at his familiarity. His sister’s place had the same layout. Beeps sounded from the microwave and soon the flashing stopped. Waverly chuckled at his take-charge demeanor.
“Waverly, wait. First you blow off coming home for Thanksgiving last weekend...” her mother began.
“I am home,” Waverly clarified and cut her off. The argument between her and her mother was growing old. Jillian expected Waverly to run to her parents every time there was something wrong. Well, now there was nothing wrong, and her mother still had a problem. Had Waverly gone home, Jillian would have paraded her around town. She’d had enough of this campaigning in her pageant region for the runoff. Jillian suffered from understanding her daughter was grown and no longer needed her help.
A Tiara Under the Tree Page 11