She shook her head. “Definitely not that.”
“You don’t like to date?” he pressed. Not because he wanted to ask her. He rolled his eyes.
“I don’t have the time,” she said.
But if she was inclined to date, would she make the time? Not that it mattered. Theo had neither the time nor inclination. And knew even if he was inclined, he wouldn’t make the time. There’s no satisfaction in contentment, Theo. You can always be more. Be better, Theo. “Then what’s at the hotel?”
“It’s silly.” She kept her attention on the window.
“It’s also several miles from your apartment.” He kept the car idling in the alleyway.
“It’s the first night of the Christmas Town gingerbread-house reveal.” She shifted and faced him, sounding full of earnest enthusiasm. “I go every year on opening night. I haven’t missed one since high school.”
He noticed the warmth and vulnerability in her eyes. She expected him to make fun of her.
“There are over a hundred unique gingerbread houses on display at the Silver Monarch,” she said slowly, as if her eagerness had blurred her words.
He’d heard her fine both times. Excitement infused every part of her face. Her single-sided smile hovered just shy of a squeal. He wanted to touch her cheek, capture the feeling for himself.
“You’ve never heard of it, have you?” Surprise filtered through her delight.
He rubbed his chin and shrugged. “Gingerbread houses aren’t really my thing.”
“You sell custom gingerbread kits in your stores.” She set her hands on the center console and leaned toward him. “From single houses to small gingerbread villages. New this year is Santa’s workshop and sleigh.”
He concentrated on keeping his hands at a ten-and-two position on the steering wheel rather than grasping her hand and her charm. “So you shop in our store?”
“Everyone does.”
But he was interested in only one person. Josie liked his stores. Shopped there. His send of pride soared. “Have you purchased one of our gingerbread kits?”
“I’ve never built my own gingerbread house.” The indifference in her tone dimmed her happiness.
Yet she went to see one of the largest gingerbread-house displays in the city every year. Theo wanted to know why—what drew her to the hotel? What kept her returning every Christmas?
The series of green lights on the one-way street leading to the hotel seemed like a sign. As was the lack of traffic. He pressed on the gas, catching every light, then discovered a parking space at the corner across from the hotel. If that wasn’t a sign he was meant to visit the gingerbread houses, too, Theo didn’t know what was. He parallel-parked, guiding the car into the space, and turned off the engine.
Josie never moved in her seat. “What are you doing?”
“Joining you for the reveal of this gingerbread house community.” He released his seat belt, then unfastened hers.
“Why?” She touched his arm, a simple brush of her fingers.
Nothing that lingered. Nothing that demanded. But something about her simple touch generated a warm glow inside him.
She added, “Don’t make fun of it.”
He wondered if she’d meant to say “don’t make fun of me.” “Why would I do that?”
“It’s... Never mind.” Her voice cracked, her gaze slid away.
A crease dented the skin between her eyebrows. The pain on her face, like she’d stared into a bad memory, splintered through Theo, fragmenting his thoughts. He reached toward her, wanting to comfort her. She turned away, opened her door. His fingers brushed against the seat, supporting nothing more than the air.
She’d climbed out of the car.
Theo met Josie on the sidewalk and escorted her to the hotel. Just as he recognized shifting market trends and fading social fads, he knew that for Josie this visit was bigger than a gingerbread-house display. More important to her than a simple gingerbread kit. That kept him at her side.
Yet his sudden urge to protect her—that kept him within hand-holding distance.
CHAPTER TEN
JOSIE QUICKENED HER PACE, wanting it to match her racing heart so that she could flee her mortification. She’d made a huge silly deal about a gingerbread display. Worse, she couldn’t have been more transparent or vulnerable in front of Theo.
Now Theo walked beside her. But she didn’t want his pity. Not on this night—the one night she looked forward to all year.
“After you.” Theo opened the hotel’s heavy brass door off to the side. A revolving glass door rotated slowly in the center of the entrance. “I get stuck in those spinning doors. Hate them. And I can’t believe I just admitted that out loud.”
She took in his easy grin and the laughter in his gaze. If he pitied her, he wasn’t revealing it. Her pulse settled into a slow jog. “Good thing there’s more than one way into a building.”
Just as there was more to Theo. Her fickle heart kicked up. She stepped into the lobby and looked at the massive crystal chandelier and away from Theo’s all-too-compelling gaze.
She knew all she needed to know about Theo. He wanted to help her.
But that really meant he wanted to change her, like so many before him. Except Mimi. The patient woman had pulled the best from Josie, highlighting Josie’s strengths while accepting the rest of her. Mimi had never apologized for who she was and had never expected Josie to apologize, either.
“I always forget how impressive this hotel is on the inside.” Awe widened Theo’s gaze, as if his senses raced to take in every decoration inside the gold-infused lobby from the floor to the fresco dome ceiling.
“It’s inspiring.” Josie ran her hand over the gold wall. “I have thread that is an exact match.”
“What are you making with it?” He walked beside her through the lobby filled with an array of Christmas trees in every size, past the silver-bell-and-garland-adorned registration area.
“An ivory wedding dress with gold appliqués.” Floor-length. Sweetheart neckline. Strapless. Full skirt. Chapel-length train. Whimsical, elegant, magical, bold—everything she’d experienced inside the hotel lobby that very first night she’d walked in. Mimi had gripped her hand tight, instructed her not to let go so they wouldn’t lose each other. Then Josie had lost herself in the enchanting experience.
Theo’s voice bumped into her musings. “Why isn’t that dress on display in your boutique?”
Josie yanked her hand away from a gold phoenix statue as if it had burned her. Or perhaps it was Theo’s veiled criticism. “It’s not finished.” Or rather, not started. The dress sketched in her design book waited for its season to be revealed. Josie waited for a sign—anything to convince her it was the right time.
“How long did it take you to find that gold thread?” he asked.
“Several seasons.” Each Christmas, she’d bring spools of gold thread to the hotel. Set each against the wall, discard it. Continue her search. “There are more nuances in gold than you can imagine.”
“If you dedicated that much time to locating the perfect thread, it only seems right to show it off in your gown.” Theo bumped his shoulder into hers. “Otherwise, you’ll give the gold thread a complex and make it feel unworthy.”
Her laughter relaxed her. Apparently, there were more nuances to Theo, as well. Perhaps he would understand the appeal of the gingerbread town. Maybe he’d even understand her. But all she wanted from Theo was his acceptance of her designs and his payment for her dressmaking services, didn’t she?
The back of Josie’s hand brushed Theo’s arm. Her pulse jump-started. If he took her hand, would he promise not to lose her?
But she wasn’t lost. She’d simply been around too many head-over-heels-in-love brides recently.
Josie kick-started her tour-guide voice and rambled off facts. “The tearoom is one of t
he few original spaces. Much of the hotel was damaged in the 1906 fires. The tearoom connects to an intimate glass ballroom with views from bridge to bridge. Both spaces are transformed for the gingerbread display.”
A woman outfitted in full Victorian yuletide garments from her lace-and-plaid-trimmed bonnet to her flocked velvet dress, faux-fur capelet and lace-up boots sashayed in the tearoom entrance, greeting guests. Josie took the holiday brochure from the woman, grateful to have something to hold onto. Something that wasn’t Theo’s hand.
Theo paused beside her, a broad grin on his face. “This is incredibly overwhelming. And quite spectacular.” He plucked the brochure from her grip and opened it to the map. “Where should we start? Holly Hills Historic District, Santa’s Neighborhood or Christmas Town Central?”
Josie took in his boyish delight. “You pick. It’s your first time.”
He lowered the map and eyed her. “But this is your place. You know its secrets...like the best viewing spots.”
“Santa’s Neighborhood is the most crowded. The working carousel is always a big draw.” She’d stood there the longest on her first visit, Mimi beside her. They’d invented story after story about how the elves and reindeer spent their days. For every toy built, they earned one turn on the carousel. For every gown Josie upscaled, she earned the reward of an overjoyed customer.
“I need to see the carousel.” Theo straightened and scanned the crowd. “My grandmother took me to the fair one summer. I rode on a flying lion for hours. It was all I wanted to do.” He closed his mouth and blinked at her as if he hadn’t recognized his own voice. Or his own admission.
“I always preferred the unicorn.” Mimi had taken Josie to a fair, too. Cotton candy, kettle corn and sunshine had filled that summer afternoon. “Let’s head to Holly Hills first.”
“What’s there?” Theo watched her as if nothing could surpass a flying lion.
“It’s the place where all the Christmas Town gingerbread people live.”
He arched one eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.
“Come on. You have to see it. You’ll want to live there, too.” She grabbed his hand, daring him to pull it away. The warmth of his touch unforgettable. “I promise.”
Josie wanted to stay there. Right there. And make a different kind of promise.
He stared at their joined hands. Slowly his fingers curved around hers. His grip tightened, locking her hand fully within the safety of his.
Please don’t lose me.
“Let’s go to Holly Hills.” Coarse wool scratched less than the rasp in his voice.
He never released her. Simply guided Josie closer to his side. Together they debated their favorite house: the Victorian mansion with sunroom versus the festive Tudor versus the stone cottage with cotton-candy chimney smoke, red pickup truck and frozen pond in the backyard. After agreeing not to judge each other’s ice-skating skills, they chose the stone cottage. In Christmas Town Central, they disputed the best location for their Victorian shop—near the town’s center or closer to the train station? They finally decided two storefronts would be more than appropriate.
All the while, Josie’s hand remained tucked inside Theo’s as if meant to be there. As if she belonged beside him. Like this.
“Hey, there’s Mia.” Theo leaned toward Josie, his focus aimed over the crowd weaving toward Santa’s carousel. “She wants us to head over there.”
Mia lowered her camera and smiled at them. “Josie, you made it and brought company. We could’ve double-dated.”
Date. This wasn’t... Josie released Theo’s hand.
“We were working.” Josie pinched her lips together, then tried again. “I was working. Theo drove me.”
Mia eyed her. Her keen gaze trailed over Josie’s face as if she had too many questions and needed to put them in order first. Josie tried to remain impassive.
Theo interrupted the friends’ standoff. “Where’s Wyatt?”
Mia pointed to a seating area away from the bar. Her new husband sat on the edge of a tall-backed leather chair and leaned over a round cocktail table. “Wyatt is taking notes for the family gingerbread contest that Helen and my mom have planned. He thinks he’s going to win this year.”
A family gingerbread contest was exactly the kind of holiday tradition Josie longed for. The kind Mimi had wanted for them. Josie wanted to reach for Theo as if he shared her same interests. Wanted the same things like holiday traditions and boisterous family meals.
Theo nudged Mia. “He looks quite serious. You should be worried.”
“He’s not going to win because I have a master plan this year to take first place.” Mia lifted her camera and laughed. The sound was more evil villain than good-natured.
“You’re going to copy one of the gingerbread houses on display.” Theo nodded as if appreciating her strategy.
“Something like that.” Mia straightened the camera strap around her neck.
“Isn’t that cheating, though?” Theo chuckled. “Shouldn’t you create your own gingerbread work of art?”
“It’s more like visual notetaking,” Mia countered.
“Copying is a form of flattery,” Josie added.
Mia nodded and pointed at Josie, then at Theo. That clever glint was back in her gaze, as if she’d just answered her own questions without Josie’s assistance. “You two should take notes. You’re both invited to the party. This year, I’m not accepting any excuses.”
They were both invited. Could attend together. Her pulse accelerated, swerving her heart back in the lead.
Theo stepped back as if Mia had poked him. “I was opening our new retail location in Chicago last year.”
Josie retreated, too, bumping into Theo’s shoulder. Delight bounced through Mia’s gaze. Josie argued, “I had to deliver costumes for Somerset Playhouse’s Christmas extravaganza that night.”
She’d skipped Mia’s holiday party. Josie preferred strangers. Strangers never lingered long enough to ask the difficult-to-answer personal questions. Strangers never expected more from Josie than she could give. The guests at Mia’s gathering weren’t quite strangers. Still not ready to return to the quiet in her apartment that evening, Josie had lingered at the theater and watched the performance from an empty seat on the side of the stage. For a few hours among so many strangers, she’d pretended the magic of the season had included her.
Her gaze settled on Theo’s profile. If he was beside her, perhaps...
Perhaps if you stepped out of the library, you would make friends. If you stopped drawing in your notebook, you could talk to the kids around you. Engage in the world. It has to be lonely inside your head all the time. That can’t be good for a kid your age.
She’d also been safe inside the library and inside her head growing up. Putting herself out there hurt. Loneliness was better than being heartbroken. Yet she never moved away from Theo’s side.
“This year I’ve already checked everyone’s calendar.” Mia aimed her camera at them and clicked. “Theo, you have no travel plans scheduled, according to Fran. And Josie, Somerset’s play is the prior weekend this year.”
“Looks like we better check on Wyatt and take some notes.” Theo set his hand on Josie’s back.
There was nothing pretend about Theo’s touch on her lower back. Or the flicker of awareness curving around her spine, tapping between her ribs. Or the way his touch steadied her.
“Just don’t copy off Wyatt,” Mia warned. “He’s brilliant in the ER, but his gingerbread house never stands straight and the roof always slides off.”
Theo and Wyatt interspersed greetings into their conversation about proper gingerbread construction. Josie shook her head. Mia was correct. Wyatt’s talents were not in finessing gingerbread. Neither were Theo’s, given he supported Wyatt’s suggestion for basic icing dyed red to hold the walls together. The true secret, according to Mimi, was melting gum
my bears, caramel and marshmallows together for the wall cement.
Wyatt and Theo fist-bumped, impressed by their creativity. Josie covered her mouth to hide her laugh. She hadn’t built a gingerbread house, yet she’d designed quite a few on paper. For the first time since Mimi’s passing, Josie was tempted to build one. To test Mimi’s theories on proper gingerbread construction against whatever Theo and Wyatt would cook up.
She was ready to join in. Wanted to risk.
Josie swayed, off balance again. This time Theo’s grip wasn’t there to steady her. She dropped into the chair on the other side of the small table and was thankful Wyatt and Theo’s debate over pretzels or ice cream cones for trees consumed them. Certain her sudden stillness and rapid blinking would alert them to the shift in her world.
“I’m finished.” Mia set her camera on the table, sat beside Josie and nodded toward the grand piano in the alcove beside the bar. “Josie, isn’t that your more-bling-is-better client?”
Josie concentrated on her client like a gleaming beacon in dense fog. Marissa Delaney wore a sequined sapphire sweater and dark denim jeans embellished with rhinestones. More crystals adorned her upswept hair and ears. Josie waved to the woman. “Marissa likes to shimmer and sparkle, claims it makes her shine on the inside, too.”
“That’s quite a lot of sparkle.” Theo rubbed his chin.
“She should be glowing from the inside out.” Wyatt nodded and stood up. “I see one of the pastry chefs lingering near the gingerbread candy store in Central Town. I’m off to learn how to get my windows to glow the same way on my gingerbread house.”
“They’re gingerbread architects,” Mia said, correcting her husband. Then she wished him good luck.
Josie watched Theo track Marissa’s movement toward the bar. Her client always stood out. Always captured the notice of everyone around her. More importantly, Marissa held onto that attention. Josie never wanted to stand out. Only ever wanted to blend in. As for holding Theo’s attention, that temptation would lead to certain heartbreak. After all, she’d have to keep his interest. Then she’d falter and stumble over the truth—she’d never been worth keeping.
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