by Elisabeth Naughton, Alexandra Ivy, Cynthia Eden, Katie Reus, Laura Wright, Skye Jordan
The thought made her both happy and sad, and she sighed.
“Just a fling,” she reminded herself quietly.
She texted back: Um…sorry?
He returned a smiley with one lowered brow. Got that right. Next time put it where it belongs—six inches higher.
She laughed again.
It’s 6:03, did you close the store yet? Meier asked. Can I come over and get you naked?
I’m going to close up now. She was about to tell him this was the perfect time to come over, when the light clip-clip-clip of high heels sounded in the store.
There were only three people in Holly who would wear those dainty high heels in her store in the middle of winter. And only one who had any reason to be here today. She must have missed the bell while she’d been lost in Meier’s texts.
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and told her dad, “Leaving me to deal with her was cruel and unusual punishment.”
“Faith?” Natalie called. “Where are you?”
“Back here.” She tucked the packing slip into the box of a surge protector just as Natalie came around the corner. Her pretty blue eyes skated over the mound of supplies. “Oh, is that all for our artists?”
Faith smiled. The Art League liked to think everyone involved with their organization was an “artist,” but Faith knew for a fact there were a lot of rednecks who brought their chainsaws and twelve packs out to this event in the hopes of winning a prize or two.
“It is.”
“And you’re on schedule for set-up tomorrow?”
“I am.”
“You do know of the large number of last-minute registrants?”
“I do.”
Natalie exhaled and gave Faith that plastic smile. “Very good. It’s really exciting all the money Meier is bringing into the community. This is the biggest turnout for the contest in the history of the festival. I just want to make sure we have enough electricity for all the tools, enough tables, chairs, lighting—”
“I’ve got it covered. This isn’t my first year setting up the festival.”
“Of course it’s not. But without your daddy and all—”
Pain pinched her chest. “I’m doing just fine.”
“You are just such a trooper, Faith. And it’s so good of Meier to help out this year, isn’t it?” Without waiting for an answer, Natalie continued with a lowered voice, as if she was speaking in confidence even though there was no one else in the store. “I was coming home from my sister’s bridal shower late last night—and I mean late; we Duboix girls really know how to party—and I noticed his car here.”
Unease pierced Faith’s gut, an automatic, irrational reaction. One that dissipated as soon as she gave it a moment’s thought. Because what she and Meier were or were not doing wasn’t any of Natalie’s business, so in the long silence that followed with Natalie’s questioning blue eyes boring into Faith, she said, “I had an emergency water leak in the basement. Meier was nice enough to help me fix my pipes.”
It was true. Before he left that morning, Meier had finished replacing the broken pipe and turned Faith’s water back on to make sure everything was in working order.
“I’m sure he did.” Natalie laughed, a low, edgy laugh. “In fact, I happen to know for a fact that Meier’s fixed the pipes of half the women on Manhattan’s list of most eligible bachelorettes. But just so we’re clear, he’s with me for the festival. We’re MCing ice-carving together, we’re judging together, we’re going to the awards banquet together, and we’ll be spending the evening afterward together.”
Faith’s head was spinning, her gut seizing. She and Meier hadn’t talked about the festival. They hadn’t talked about the next day, let alone the days in the future. But, regardless, Faith had something to say about this.
“Whoa, hold on.” She took a step closer. “What’s this about the contest? No one talked to me about changing the judging.”
“It’s all over the fliers we sent out. They’re posted in your windows, Faith.”
Anger blended with embarrassment that something this important had slipped past her. “I don’t have time to read every line of the marketing campaigns others hang in my window. And the fact that you didn’t come to me directly but waited until the last minute to spring it on me is pure cowardice.”
Natalie used that dry, condescending smile. “Think what you like.”
When she turned toward the door, something inside Faith snapped. Something fragile and brittle and worn very, very thin. “Whatever you and Meier have planned outside the judging is between you and Meier, but my dad started this damn festival. It’s still running; it’s still bringing money into this community because my dad kept it going every year. And my dad always judged the sculptures—from this festival’s inception over forty years ago. Even while he was sick, he got out there and judged. He and I have been judging together since I was a little girl—over two decades. I should be judging—”
Natalie faced her again. “Things change, Faith, and I’m really sorry about your daddy. But his vision for this festival has always been about turning the pockets of the people around here inside out and getting those coins flowing into the streets of Holly. Meier is a golden ticket to that end, and creating a unified front between the biggest guest sponsor and the charity’s CEO is key to securing large donations from the deepest pockets. Corporate pockets.
“Now, I don’t expect you to understand that with your one year of college and all, but corporations look for certain marketing elements when they’re considering large donations. Strong, cohesive marketing strategies in a charity run by savvy executives. So showing those potential donors the dovetailed presentation of charity, sponsor, and celebrity working in tandem is key in pulling money in for Holly.
“And isn’t that what this festival is all about? Isn’t that what your daddy would have wanted?”
If Faith thought her head was spinning before, now it was about ready to lift off her neck. She tried to form words, but nothing solidified. The bell over the door chimed, and dual streams of relief and dread flooded her body. It had to be Meier, and she didn’t think she could handle dealing with this in front of both of them.
But Dwayne’s voice filled the store. “Faith, honey? Where you at? I need an expert’s opinion on cabinet hinges.”
“Here, Dwayne.” She caught Natalie’s arm as the other woman turned to leave, her expression smug. Faith lowered her voice but made sure her steel tone was cool and crystal clear. “You’re not taking this away from me, because I’m not letting go. I’ll do what I have to do to keep it. If you want a fight, Natalie, you’ll get one.”
Natalie’s gaze turned pitying, her head tilted, and she simply shook her head, sighed and turned away, as if Faith was a lost cause. And while Faith might not have had time to focus on the anger this situation warranted with Dwayne strolling toward her, already chatting about something she wasn’t listening to, she still felt the underlying ache all this had caused. An ache that burrowed into her soul like a tick. An ache so deep she was sure she’d have to cut part of herself away to get rid of it.
* * *
Meier took the steps to the hardware store two at a time, a smile on his face, hope in his heart, and a whole lotta sweet fun in the bag under his arm.
He reached the top step just as Dwayne was closing the door at his back.
“Hey, Dwayne.” Meier paused and leaned on the rail. “How are things?”
“Great. You really lit a spark under the kids. Never seen those boys practice so hard.”
“Fantastic.”
“Wanna come by in the morning? Do some more drills with us?”
“Sure. What time?”
“How does ten sound?”
“Good. I’ll double-check with Faith and text you.”
Dwayne glanced over his shoulder, then met Meier’s eyes again. “You here on business or pleasure?”
A pinch of unease tweaked Meier’s gut. “Why do you ask?”
“Something
’s bothering Faith. She’s made some changes, and the store seems to be running the way it always has.” He shrugged. “But with Faith, it’s hard to tell. She’s always been so strong. Since her mama left, I think she’s always felt the need to hold things together. And after all she’s been through with her daddy, I worry about her, you know?”
Meier nodded. The more he learned about Faith, the more he worried too. And that had to be the strangest thing ever, because Meier hadn’t worried about anyone but himself in a very, very long time.
“I’m going to be helping her set up for the festival,” he said, glancing through the glass where he could see Faith packing boxes in the back room. “I’ll see if I can get her to open up a little more about the business.”
A relieved smile swept the worry from Dwayne’s expression. “You’re such a good kid. It’s so great to see that all the fame hasn’t made you a jackass like so many other athletes.” He patted Meier’s shoulder on his way to the stairs. “See you tomorrow.”
Meier returned his gaze to the window in the door and Faith shoving cords and tools and bungee cords into boxes, her movements forceful and jerky, her expression tight and distressed. He wondered if his teasing innuendos throughout the day had caused her stress instead of pleasure. Wondered if she’d wanted their fling to end this morning with good-bye and allowing him to come over tonight was just so she could tell him to back off. Maybe she was simply under too much stress to give any more than one night to anyone. He sure wouldn’t blame her.
He clutched the top of the paper bag closed, suddenly feeling selfish for thinking of sex again when Faith had so many more important, troubling things to consider.
“Sorry, Dwayne,” he murmured, reaching for the door. “Looks like I’m a bigger jackass than either of us realized.”
The bell on the door chimed, but Faith didn’t look up. “Sorry, we’re closed.”
Meier set the bag on the counter, shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, and strolled toward her, looking for ways to help. He spotted a tape roller and a pile of flattened cardboard boxes and veered toward them.
“I know I normally accommodate everyone whether it’s during working hours or not,” Faith said, “but tonight I’ve really got a lot to do, so—”
“So, I’ll help.”
Her head jerked up at the sound of his voice, and she straightened, her expression surprised and tired and definitely troubled. Dwayne had hit the mark. “Meier. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you.”
He grinned as he started taping a box together. “You mean you wouldn’t have bolted the door shut?”
That instantly turned her expression dark. “It’s beginning to sound like I might have a valid reason to.”
“Okay.” He finished off the box and set it on the floor at Faith’s feet. “I’m definitely missing something. You’re obviously upset, and I have no idea why.”
Faith dropped her gaze to the six-pack of duct tape in her hands, her expression beyond frustrated. “I know you don’t.” She smacked the tape against a wall, snapping the cellophane, then unwrapped the rolls. “That just makes it worse.”
Meier was honestly and truly clueless. “Let me just start by saying I’m sorry—for whatever is upsetting you this much, and whatever part I played in it.”
She dropped her hands, tossing the tape aside, and when she met his gaze, her expression was drenched in remorse. “It’s not your fault.” She grabbed an empty box and started packing it with supplies. “I really wanted to see you tonight, but I’m not going to be good company. Maybe we can try again tomorrow.”
If she hadn’t sounded like the idea equated to someone stealing her puppy, he would have backed off. But Dwayne was right. This was Faith trying to hold everything together by herself. And Meier cared too much about her to walk away and let her suffer like that.
He stepped forward, gently grasped her hands, took the supplies from her fingers, and turned her toward him by the arms.
“Meier, I really have a lot to—”
“Shhhh.” He slid his arms around her and pulled her against him, then held her tight. “I’ll help you do whatever you have to get done, which gives you time to cuddle me out of my separation anxiety.”
Her chuckle brushed his chest.
After thirty seconds of her just standing there with him, he said, “You’re not cuddling me.”
“Big bad hockey players don’t need cuddling.”
“This one does.”
She went silent again, and it wasn’t a comfortable silence.
Meier spied an old metal chair against a wall. He picked Faith up off her feet and carried her there.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting comfortable so we can talk.” He sat and pulled her into his lap sideways.
“Maybe I don’t want to talk.”
“Then you’re going to spend the next few hours trying to get a big bad hockey player out of your hardware store, because I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s bothering you and what part I had in it.”
“It’s petty and stupid. It’s small-town bullshit. And it certainly holds no importance to you.”
Meier took her chin between his fingers and turned her head so she was looking into his eyes. He wanted her to see how serious he was when he said, “Faith, if it’s important enough to upset you, then it’s important to me. I don’t care if it has to do with Aunt Pearl using chicken wire to fence her pigs, talk to me.”
She didn’t even laugh at his chicken-wire joke, which made Meier’s stomach flutter with unease. And while he’d come with the intention of talking to her about working out some way for them to see each other in the future—on and off hockey season—now the very real possibility of looking at the future without her overshadowed that idea. And left a very deep pain at the center of Meier’s chest.
“Faith…” he pleaded.
She picked up the cotton hem of his tee and worried it between her fingers. “Do you remember how the Winter Wonderland Festival ran from when you were a kid?”
“Sure.”
Faith went on to explain the way Natalie had tried to manipulate her way between Faith and Meier, and how Natalie had tried to bully the judging position away from Faith. Meier’s teeth were grinding by the time she got to her feelings on his fictitious relationship with Natalie.
“You’re a free agent,” she said. “We went into this knowing that you were leaving and I wasn’t looking for anything long term or permanent. So if you want to date Natalie, that’s totally up to you. But I’m not giving up that judging spot. I know it probably seems ridiculously small-town minded to you, but this is my first Christmas without my dad, and this was his favorite holiday.”
Her strength dimmed, and tears glistened in her eyes, making it hard for Meier to swallow.
“I know the town is dressed up for Christmas all year, but Dad truly spent all three-hundred-sixty-four days preparing for both the festival and the ice-carving contest. It was such a special time for us. The way most kids think about Christmas morning, I think of judging that contest.”
The tears finally slipped over her lashes and slid down her cheeks. Faith sniffled and wiped at one cheek, but Meier rubbed at the other with his thumb before she could get it.
“Since her daddy passed, she’s been shouldering everything herself.”
Meier cradled her head to his chest and kissed her silky floral-scented hair.
“I’m just not ready to let him go yet,” she said, her voice flooded with tears.
“You don’t have to,” Meier said quietly, his own throat thick with emotion. “You don’t ever have to let him go, baby. You two shared more love in a year than I’ve had with either of my parents in our entire relationship. Some people just aren’t cut out to love the way you and your father could. Letting go of that, of all those amazing memories, of who you’ve become because of that love, it would be just…tragic.”
For the very first time in his entire life, Meier thought h
e might have the capacity to love like that too. If he connected with the right woman. And he was pretty damn sure that woman was sitting on his lap.
The realization shot twin streaks of excitement and fear straight through his body. But when they mellowed, a deep yearning remained.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I haven’t been able to talk to anyone but Lily. Managing this place by myself…” She exhaled. “It’s been so hard. So many people don’t know how to deal with grief or death. I didn’t want to show any kind of weakness or emotion that would make them uncomfortable and keep them from coming into the store. I’m already struggling to stay open.”
Meier pulled back, held her head in both hands, and looked directly into Faith’s eyes. “You can always talk to me.”
She smiled, and the movement pushed more tears from her eyes. Meier leaned in and soaked up the trail with kisses, drawing a shaky sigh from Faith that did crazy, twisty things to his heart.
When he drew away, he met her eyes again. “It’s important that you know everything Natalie said is her own fabrication. I agreed to judge the contest because my mother volunteered me and because it will help Dwayne and the high school hockey team. But I had no idea the judging or the contest was so important to you. And I absolutely did not agree to do anything with Natalie.
“I want you on my arm at the festival. I’m more than happy to step down and let you judge the contest. I know next to nothing about ice sculptures or art. I don’t even know how to work a chainsaw, for God’s sake.”
That got a laugh from Faith and lightened Meier’s heart.
“And I want to be sitting next to you at the awards dinner. Even if you say no, I won’t be sitting with Natalie. In fact, I won’t be bringing anyone. You are the only woman I want with me, Faith.”
This would have been the perfect moment to slip in, And I really want to continue seeing you. But given how much she currently had on her plate, he was sure the hassle of travel and how that would complicate her already troubled business wouldn’t be a welcome burden.
So he pulled her lips to his for a kiss. She dropped her head back and opened to him. The warm touch of her tongue spread fire straight through Meier’s chest, and he groaned. Her tears made the kiss salty and so real. So honest or raw or something that wrapped around Meier’s heart and took him under.