His dark eyes pinned her with a penetrating gaze. “For one, yes. She was in town and wanted to get together.”
Double rats.
Zoë was sure she didn’t want to hear what was coming next.
“She’s getting married next summer. She wanted to tell me in person.”
Aah.
Her tension eased, but only a fraction. Should she say, “That’s great” or “I’m sorry?” His expression told her nothing. What if he was heartbroken and trying to appear stoic?
He seemed to sense her dilemma, because his lips tipped up and crinkles appeared around his eyes. “It’s okay. In fact, it’s good. I’m happy for her.”
She smiled in response before she remembered Maureen was only one of many unanswered questions between them. Settling back against the pillows, she tucked one leg beneath her. “So what brings you here?”
Nick set his glass on the table and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees and clasping his hands. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”
A proposition? That could mean anything from an offer to change the oil in her car to an invitation to jet off to Paris for the weekend. She took a sip of her wine. “O-kay.”
“We want you to come for Christmas.”
Her brows shot up, and her jaw dropped. He was chock-full of surprises today.
He rubbed the knuckle of one thumb with the other. “Since you said you weren’t going home for Christmas, Mom wants you to spend the day at her house. The whole family will be there—Mom, Angela, Kenny, and the kids.”
“And you.”
“Yeah. And me. How about it? Mom’s a great cook, and you won’t have to lift a finger.”
She pictured the cheerful chaos of the holiday on the farm, with her brothers racing noisily through the house, while her mother and grandmother worked their magic in the kitchen. It might be fun to be around children at Christmas again. She’d been feeling sorry for herself, sitting alone in her apartment. She liked Terry and Angela. And Nick would be there.
“That would be nice. Thank your mom for me.”
The tight lines around his mouth eased, as if there had been more at stake in his mind than a simple holiday meal. “Good. But that’s only half the proposition.”
She narrowed her eyes. Christmas with his family was a big step. What else did he have in mind?
“If you spend Christmas with my family, I’ll spend New Year’s with yours.”
“What?” His first offer had surprised her, but it was nothing compared to the shock of the second. Outrage bubbled up inside her. How dare he try to manipulate her that way? “What makes you—?”
He raised a hand to stem the tide of angry words. “Zoë, listen to me. You wouldn’t go home for a short visit at Thanksgiving, even though there was time. You said you haven’t spent the holidays with your family in years. I understand you have issues with your mom, but they’re not going to magically disappear. You need to go home. You need to see your family.” He lowered his chin and gave her a hard stare. “You know I’m right.”
As she met his unyielding gaze, the fight drained out of her. He was right. She did know. That was the hell of it.
He picked up her phone from the coffee table and held it out to her. “Call your mother.”
She took the phone and stared at it. What should she say? What could she say? Their last conversation had left her hurt and frustrated, as usual. How did she overcome that?
“It’s simple.” Nick’s voice was low and calm. “Tell her you want to come home.”
“It’s late,” she said, stalling. “She’s probably already in bed.”
“It’s never too late. She’s your mother.”
Zoë swallowed hard then scrolled until she found the number and pressed Call. Her father answered on the third ring.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Zoë, is that you? Is everything all right? Where are you?” His voice held the mix of surprise and worry she knew so well. Some things never changed. Once a dad, always a dad.
“Everything’s fine. I’m in Chicago. Can I talk to Mom?”
Moments later her mother came on the line. “Zoë?”
“Hi, Mom. I know it’s short notice, but I was thinking about coming home for a few days at New Year’s.”
When only the sound of soft sobbing greeted her ears, her eyes began to sting. “Mom, are you okay?”
“Yes, yes. I’m fine.” Her mother stopped to blow her nose. “I’m just so glad to hear from you. I’m sorry I was short with you the last time you called. Adam’s boys were chasing the cat, trying to tie a bow around his tail. Of course, you know you can come home any time.”
Zoë dashed an errant tear from her cheek. “Um…would it be all right if I brought a friend?”
“This wouldn’t by any chance be a male friend, would it?” Her mother’s voice had regained most of its usual vigor.
Zoë glanced at Nick, who hadn’t taken his gaze off her. “Yes, very.”
“Oh, thank God.”
Well.
They talked a couple more minutes before she said goodbye and ended the call.
“What did she say?”
One side of her mouth tipped up in a rueful smile. “Apparently, my mother has been waiting for years for me to bring a young man home.”
His dimple appeared. “Well, at least I qualify on one count.”
She set the phone back on the table. “I feel better, lighter.” She turned and searched his eyes. “How did you know?”
His expression sobered. He reached for her and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on her head. “I knew because I know you. You need harmony. You need things to be right. And you’ll never be happy if you’re emotionally separated from the people you love.”
She felt like he’d ripped back a protective veil and seen straight to her core—exposed, yet liberated at the same time.
She twisted until she could see his face. “We’ve only known each other a few weeks. How could you possibly know that about me?”
He shrugged. “Because I pay attention…and because I care about you.”
She must have looked as surprised as she felt, because he smiled and tugged her close, until only a whisper separated their mouths. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know. Women are always bragging about their infallible intuition.”
She shook her head. “Not me.”
His breath warmed her lips. “Don’t feel bad. I just recently figured it out myself.” Then he closed the gap with a kiss that seared her to the center of her soul.
When he finally eased back, she rested her cheek against his. “I care about you, too, you know.”
He shifted her in his arms until he could see her face. “Really?”
“Really.” She nodded. “I just figured it out recently, too.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to decide what to do about it.”
“I guess we will.”
He brushed his lips lightly across hers. “I know a good place to start.”
She smiled against his mouth. “And where would that be?”
“Right here.”
His kiss spoke of promises and possibilities, better than any words. And he was right. It was the perfect place to start.
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About the Author
I write romance because that's what I like to read. The world provides more than enough drama and tragedy. I want to give my readers the happily-ever-after we all crave.
I haven't always been a writer, but I have always embraced creativity and relished new experiences. By the time I was twenty-one I had traveled the world from Tunisia to Japan. Little did I suspect I was collecting material for future characters and stories along the way.
I've been married to my personal hero for more than thirty years. After decades of living in the Midwest, we heeded the siren call of sun and sea and moved
to the most breathtakingly beautiful place imaginable - the gorgeous central coast of California. I look forward to bringing you all the new stories this place inspires.
Alison
I invite you to visit me at my web site and on Facebook.
Other Books by Alison Henderson
Harvest of Dreams
A Man Like That
The Treasure of Como Bluff
Small Town Christmas Tales
Unwritten Rules
Boiling Point (Phoenix, Ltd. Book 2) Page 27