by Nikki Logan
She laughed and picked him up, holding him to her heart and cuddling him close. “I didn’t mean any of those criticisms. You’re perfect as you are...or you will be once you’re old enough to learn to follow basic commands. You’re my Christmas companion and I’m not letting anyone or anything spoil our Christmas together. It’s just the two of us, Fizz. Just you and me.”
Trey, with his hot blue eyes and broad shoulders, was just a fantasy from her youth. And she was a grown woman who knew better than to give in to impossible fantasies.
CHAPTER THREE
THE CLOCK WENT off at nine-forty-five and Trey slammed his hand down on it. After Ella and her bouncy little puppy had left the night before he’d been unable to get to sleep. He’d kept seeing her sticking out her chin and trying to boss him around. It was cute as heck. And he knew darn well that he shouldn’t be noticing that. She was still the unicorn fairy princess, the happily-ever-after lady. That made her untouchable.
Still, she was going to be here in less than fifteen minutes. He sprinted for the shower, threw himself under a stream of hot water and tried to prep himself for the day. No, make that the next several days. She had said she was going to stay out of his hair. Immediately the memory of a day when she had crossed an invisible line zinged into his memory. He shoved it aside. Ella had been told not to interfere, and she had done it anyway. She’d seen a side of him no one had ever been allowed to see. The vulnerable side.
She was darn well never going to see it again. That side of him no longer existed.
As he turned the shower off and wrapped a towel around himself he heard a tentative tapping on the door.
Darn it, she was three minutes early.
He stalked down to the door and threw it open. She gazed up at him with those big gray, thick-lashed eyes. Innocent eyes that still believed that puppy dogs could cure any heartache. In fact she was holding the puppy now.
“What’s his name again?” he asked, trying not to notice that the puppy was looking up at him with eyes every bit as innocent as Ella’s.
“It’s Fizz, but it might change when someone...you know...adopts him.”
Her eyes were everywhere but on his chest, which was cute and somehow...erotic.
He frowned at his thoughts, opened the door wider and motioned her inside. “Why not you?”
“Me?”
“Why aren’t you adopting him? You seem to like him.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Then she looked at him. This time her glance did take in his chest before she hastily looked away. “Oh, yes, I remember. You’re not a pet guy. Anyway, no, it wouldn’t be fair for me to keep him. Right now Stuart is letting me bring him to the office, but that can’t last forever, and he’s too friendly a dog to leave alone all day. He’d be lonely.”
The way she said the word lonely made him think she knew something about the emotion. He shook his head. He was just being fanciful.
“Let me put some clothes on,” he said, which made her turn a pretty shade of pink. Ella wasn’t really a pretty woman—her nose was just a touch too thin and her mouth a bit too tiny for classical beauty—but she had those big eyes and an interesting face. The blush did amazingly intriguing things to her features. It made it difficult to see her as just a neighbor and not a woman who possessed all the delectable parts that kept a man tossing and turning at night.
But thinking those kinds of off-limits thoughts was his signal to duck out. As he set up coffee and got dressed, he could hear her talking to the dog downstairs.
“You’ll have to be good for a few minutes, sweetie. Mr. McFadden and I have to discuss a few things. I won’t be long,” she said, just like a mother talking to a child. Or at least the way he imagined most mothers would talk. His never had. Neither of them.
When he rejoined her, he saw that she had created a play area for the puppy. She’d set up the large basket she’d carried Fizz in and had brought out a collection of toys.
“All right, I suppose you’ll want to get right to what will be expected of you this week.” She pulled out a sheet of paper. “It’s not really too bad. I’m sure you can duck out of one of these. Stuart is pretty easygoing.”
“I know.”
She blushed again and he tried to hide a smile. If not for the fact that Eagleton brought back so many bad memories, and if not for the fact that it was clear that Ella wasn’t the type of woman a man toyed with, he would enjoy making her blush this week—and then...
No. None of that. He reached out for the paper. There was a map of the town with several locations starred and numbered. On the bottom of the map the date, time and details of each event were matched with the numbered stars.
“Why do you have things like ‘pride,’ ‘community,’ ‘strength’ and ‘warmth’ listed?”
She looked slightly embarrassed. “I meant to take those out...but those are the types of feelings we’re trying to instill. You have no idea how much of a beating the people of the town have endured since the plant shut down and so many of them lost their jobs. Their pride and self-esteem have been wounded. Stuart and I want to restore some of that, even if it’s only for an hour or two.”
The scent of coffee drifted out and Trey motioned Ella into the kitchen. “I’m...sorry to hear that things have been so bad.”
“Stuart didn’t tell you?”
“Stu and I tend to gloss over bad things unless we think there’s something the other person can do to alleviate the problem. Always been that way.”
She nodded and sipped her coffee. “Do you mind...? It’s none of my business, but I know you don’t really want to be here. You said that you owed Stuart a favor. What did he do for you?”
“No secret. He bought me a ticket out of here.” His voice was flippant, but there had been nothing light or minor about what his cousin had done for him. “And he didn’t ask me to spill my guts.”
“I never asked that of you!” she said.
“Sweetheart, your eyes asked it every time you saw me.”
“I didn’t even know you! I still don’t know you!”
“Exactly.”
She glared down at the piece of paper. Her cheeks were twin roses, bright pink. Lovely. Not that he was going to say so.
Finally she took a deep breath. “I’ve put the internet link to the town on the sheet,” she said, clearly putting the past behind her. “You won’t be expected to do much of anything at the events except be there and smile...and not contradict anything that Stuart or I say about you.”
Her head had drifted lower as she spoke and her last words caught him by surprise. Without thought he reached out, slid his fingertips beneath her chin, coaxing her to look at him. “What exactly does that mean?” he asked.
She wet her lips. He wanted to groan. Her mouth might be small, but there was something enticing about it. Something elusive, sensual.
“You were a soldier. Everyone here is proud of you.”
“For living? Others died while I didn’t.”
She blinked and those pretty wide eyes teared up a bit. “Yes. For living. People lost jobs and it’s killing them. Losing a son would be so much worse. They know you were out there battling for them.”
“I was doing what I was ordered to do. And then when it was over I built a business and made a veritable ton of money halfway across the country in San Diego. You don’t think people will resent that?”
“Yes. Some. But most will see you as proof that it’s still possible to succeed.”
And that kind of wide-eyed innocence, naiveté and trust was just why he needed to get out of here quickly.
A tiny yip and some snuffling, then the sound of tearing paper and scratching came from the next room. Ella jumped to her feet and ran into the other room, Trey following behind her.
“Oh, no! Fizz, no!” she said, clapping he
r hands.
The little dog was up on the coffee table, his mouth full of newspaper. There was a scratch on the table. Instead of looking guilty, the little guy wagged his tail and tried to lick Ella’s face when she got close.
“No!” she said, picking him up and putting him in his basket. She offered the puppy a chew toy. “No,” she told him.
“No big deal. I never liked that table,” Trey said.
“It doesn’t matter. He has to learn not to chew. It can be dangerous for him. He might chew an electrical wire or chew on something that might poison him. And, from another perspective, it can also be expensive. I—that table—it was probably worth more than my whole living room.”
“Like I said, forget it.”
“No. I’m not like that. It’s damaged, and I can’t fix it completely, but I can repair it so that it looks better than it does now.”
“Ella...”
“Trey...” She put her hands on her hips.
“It’s not worth the trouble.” He knew how to command. He stared into her eyes, modulated his voice.
For a minute they stood there, staring into each other’s eyes. She started to drop her head. Then she closed her eyes and raised her chin instead. “It’s worth the trouble to me. My pride is at stake here.”
The puppy was looking back and forth between them as if they were batting a tennis ball around.
“You can help me carry it home and I’ll repair it there,” she said. “There’s no need for us to invade your house any longer. All right?”
She stared at Trey. He didn’t want to admit it, but she had him. He knew about the need to salvage one’s pride. It would be childish to tell her that he wouldn’t mind taking a sledgehammer to every piece of furniture, every brick in this house where his pride had been slammed against the wall every day.
“Trey?” she asked again.
He glared back at her and blew out a breath. “You never did listen very well,” he grumbled. But he picked up the table and carted it to her little house.
* * *
“I DID LISTEN,” Ella told Fizz after Trey had gone. “I heard what he said about not wanting commitment or pets or obviously people. I heard it when I was young and I heard it now, too. And only one time did I ignore what he told me. I’ll never make that mistake again.”
She was pretty sure he still hadn’t forgiven her for that time. It was part of the reason she was worried about the presentations in town. People were going to want to fawn over him. She was totally sure he wasn’t going to like it. At all.
But it was Christmas. The fawning was a gift that worked both ways. She hoped. She also hoped she could forget that moment when he had touched her.
She reached up to feel the place where his fingertips had held her chin. Her heart had been pounding. It was still pounding. Which was just unacceptable. She wasn’t seventeen anymore, unable to stop herself from dreaming about a boy who suspected that she had a crush on him and wasn’t thrilled about it. She was old enough to know that caring wasn’t enough to change hopeless situations. And she was well beyond old enough to know that when Trey left this time he would never return. Any more touching, even of the most innocent variety, would be a mistake.
“And as for you, young man,” she told Fizz. “I can’t believe you scratched his table. I was going to stay in the background from here on out. Now I’ll at least have to see him again to return his table.”
It was probably just hearing his name, but Fizz wagged his tail, licked her fingers. She could have sworn that he smiled.
“I mean it. It’s over. I might even sneak this table onto his back porch under cover of darkness.”
But, no, she wouldn’t do that. Then he would be sleeping upstairs, and she had a hunch that Trey slept naked.
Bringing the table over in the daytime was a much better idea.
CHAPTER FOUR
ELLA WAS AS good as her word. The next day, when he attended the “Eagleton Through the Years” presentation and shook one hundred hands, received one hundred pats on the back and one hundred thank-yous, which he did his best to accept graciously, she kept her distance. When Stuart asked him to say a few words and his chest went tight because it was clear that they saw him as a hero, and this was a delicate situation where he needed to be positive, she stayed away.
He couldn’t say It’s good to be home. This had never been home. So... “It’s good to see everyone,” he said instead, and that felt...okay. That was right. There were people he had all but forgotten, and if shaking his hand or thinking he was more than he really was made someone feel better, then he was glad he could help. “Hello, Mrs. Blevins,” he said, accepting a hug and cookie from the older woman. “Hi, Bob.”
The man gave him a hearty slap on the back.
Trey almost said, How’s the farm? but just then he looked at Ella. She was looking worried. Had Bob lost the farm? He quickly changed his comment. “I remember when you beat the stuffing out of me. I deserved it, too, for saying something I shouldn’t have.”
Bob looked sheepish. He smiled. “You were just messing, Trey. It was fun beating on you, though. Anytime, buddy. Anytime. I wouldn’t mind saying that I bested a soldier.”
Trey laughed. “I guess I’d better watch my mouth.”
Bob walked away with a grin on his face.
Ella looked as if she’d received a gift. But she stayed on her side of the room. She didn’t even appear to look his way again. But for the rest of the next hour Trey was always aware of exactly where she was in the room, just as he’d been aware all those years ago that she had watched him. That she had known at least something of the angry fights that went on at his house.
Despite the bad memory, he almost wanted to smile. Maybe even then he’d been as aware of Ella as she had been of him. Good thing he’d played the tough guy and told her not to hang around his house. Good thing he’d been humiliated and embarrassed and never tuned in to that quiet, thrumming attraction. Just look at her now. She had come to this town skinny and quiet and scared, and here she was smiling at every person, reaching out her hands, hugging people and helping the elderly. And smiling at all the young men who seemed to hang on her every word.
There did seem to be a lot of men hanging around Ella. Trey frowned, then kicked himself for frowning. None of his business. In a few days he’d be gone again, and this time he would never come back. As for Ella, she would probably eventually marry one of those guys.
“So what do you think?” Stuart asked, coming up beside him.
“About what?” Had Stuart seen him looking at Ella?
“The town. Has it changed much? I see it every day, but you’re looking at it after having been away a long time.”
Trey glanced out the big plateglass windows. Clean white snow dusted the tops of the parking meters, evergreen garlands hung in big loops between the light poles, with a wreath and a big red bow on each pole. The trees were decorated with white lights. Lots of white lights. Christmas carols played softly in the background. “It’s definitely more Christmassy than I remember.”
Stuart laughed. “Ella took it to heart when I told her to do it up right. Every space is decorated. But that’s not exactly what I meant.”
“I know. You meant the people. They’re afraid,” Trey said, nodding toward the people at the refreshment table.
“A lot of them left. No work.”
“But you stayed. So did Ella. Why?”
Stuart shrugged. “You know me. I’m an optimist. As for Ella—you’ll have to ask her that. When her father died, and her mother passed away soon after that, I thought she might move away. She has no family here. But I don’t think she’ll ever leave. There’s a determination in her to make things right for people.”
There always had been, Trey remembered. She’d been into causes even when the cause
had been hopeless. Even when she’d known nothing about the situation and after she’d been told to stay away. “They like her,” he said. “The townspeople.”
“They love her. And why not? She props them up and makes them feel good about themselves. She’s that way about everybody. Except you. For some reason she wasn’t big on inviting you here. Any idea what that’s about?”
Trey raised an eyebrow. “Not like you to pry, Stu.”
To his credit, Stuart looked sheepish. “You’re right. Not my business. But I worry about her, and Linda does, too. I love my wife to death, but she wants to make a match for Ella and so far it hasn’t happened. She dates now and then, but nothing ever comes of it. The way she reacted to me inviting you...I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t done anything in your youth to sour Ella on men. But—” he held up a hand “—I’m not asking.”
“Good,” Trey said, as he noticed yet another man approaching Ella with hope in his eyes. “I was a jerk when I was younger, but Ella and I never had a relationship. You know that.”
“I know.” But the sound in Stuart’s voice told Trey the rest of the story. Stuart knew that Trey had lived next door to Ella, and that his bad-boy reputation meant that a full-fledged relationship wasn’t necessary for a girl to get hurt.
“It wasn’t that way with us. Ever,” Trey said.
Ella might have had a schoolgirl crush on him, but he had cured her of that on the night he’d told her to get out of his house, his yard and his sight forever. A sensitive girl like Ella would have been hurt, but a smart girl—also like Ella—would have quickly realized that he wasn’t worth her hurt. She would have cut him loose...and must have hated the thought that she had to work with him on the Christmas Festival.
She’d done her best to keep him from being invited; she was holding her nose and working with him despite her distaste; she was even repairing his damn table. He owed her for that.
And she didn’t look as if she wanted to talk to that guy, who didn’t appear to know how to take no for an answer. Trey frowned. Not his problem, not his concern, not his business. She was an adult, and she clearly knew how to handle herself if Stuart had put her in charge of the entire festival. So why had he even noticed that guy or her response?