by Ines Saint
She laughed. “No . . . I just want a spectacular but self-made Joe to carry her off to her storybook house where they can both be saddled with a reasonable mortgage and live mostly happily ever after. Except she doesn’t seem to want to be carried off, but she deserves to, doesn’t she?” Their eyes met. Dan caught her meaning. “Anyway.” She cleared her throat. “I never thought I’d catch myself thinking that way. Maybe I don’t hate fairy tales as much as I used to.”
“Good. You can go to the Cinderella thing next Friday,” he said. She kicked him under the table.
CHAPTER 12
Dan sat in downtown Dayton’s Victoria Theatre, watched Cinderella , and tried not to sulk. What a mood killer. His eyes drifted away from the stage to study the restored plaster and marble work, the gilding, and the fresco detailing. Knowing he was sitting in one of the oldest continually operated theaters in North America was the only bright spot. Well, that and how happy Ella seemed to have her newest tea buddy there.
He glanced at Holly next. She looked beautiful in an emerald green sweater dress that made her eyes look more sparkly than one of Ella’s wands. Her dark, glossy curls were held to the side with a ribbon, and she smelled too good. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
To add to his torment, Leo and Emily were there with their own little girl, Gracie, and Leo spent more time watching Dan and snickering than he spent watching the ballet. At that moment, Dan caught Emily giving Leo a much-needed elbow to his gut. Dan laughed, until Holly elbowed him.
Half an hour after she’d elbowed Dan to get him to pay attention and stop acting like a goof with Leo, Dan was leaning forward, watching the ballet with rapt attention. Holly whispered in his ear, “I think you’re enjoying this more than Ella.”
“It’s surprisingly full of intrigue,” he whispered back. “I like the evil stepmother part.” He winked. “I hope she gets hers.” His breath on her neck sent tingles down her arm.
Dan leaned over again. “Did you ask me here to distract me? ’Cause I’m fine, you know.”
“I know. It was Ella’s idea. We’re friends, Dan, aren’t we? Strange as it seems.”
“Yes, Holly, we’re friends.” He grinned and tossed her a look that conveyed exactly how friendly he was feeling. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she focused on the evil stepmother’s warts to take her mind off too-friendly thoughts.
Had he become as much of a true friend as Sam and Johnny to her? No, everything that had happened with Dan, from their absurd first meeting to being with him when he came face-to-face with his mother, made her feel closer to Dan. But they were treading deep waters.
He turned to look at her, as if he’d sensed her watching him, and she looked away, the ache in her heart dropping to the pit of her stomach. It was easier to stay afloat in shallow water, but it seemed too late to head back closer to shore.
“It’s been a while since you’ve stopped by to see the progress on the Craftsman, you know,” he said, his eyes steady on hers.
“Maybe I’ll stop by tonight.” She looked away. “I mean, it is Friday and we did have a deal.”
After the show, the whole group went out to dinner, and Leo and Dan couldn’t stop talking about the ballet. Emily and Holly exchanged amused looks while Gracie and Ella played pretend at one corner of the table. They looked like two families enjoying a meal. Except they weren’t. As if she’d had the same thought, Emily’s expression went from amused to troubled in the space of a heartbeat. “Dan,” Emily interrupted their banter. “How long are you planning on staying in Spinning Hills?”
“Sam needs me for about three more weeks. I’m leaving right after the festival.”
“Have you decided where you’re going next? Last time I asked, you weren’t sure,” Emily prattled on.
“Seattle’s the plan.”
Seattle, Washington? Holly took a bite of her food. So what. She didn’t care. Friends could e-mail and text each other to catch up.
“Oh. That’s . . . far away.” Emily put her fork down.
“Yeah, well, the Northwest has been on my mind for some time now. I’ve never explored that part of the country.”
“Do you think you’ll ever get tired of moving?” Leo asked.
Dan swallowed some food. “Don’t think so.”
“Daddy moves around a lot, too,” Ella chimed in from her corner.
Dan and Holly’s eyes met. How could she feel so close to him when there was so much they didn’t know about each other? Seattle suddenly sounded like a great place for him.
“How was the play?” Sam asked the moment Dan sat down in front of him at Huffy’s.
“It was a ballet. And would you believe it wasn’t half-bad?”
Sam raised both eyebrows. “No.”
Dan turned his attention to the stage. “Is Johnny playing tonight?”
“Nope. Don’t know where he is.”
Dan had a couple of things he’d like to ask Sam without Johnny around, but he didn’t know where to begin without being obvious. Feeling lame, he began with, “Speaking of the ballet, Ella mentioned her dad moves a lot. Does he come to visit at all?”
Sam’s mouth turned up in one corner and his eyes took on a knowing look. “Ben? Yeah, he visits all the time. Probably five or six times a year. He’s a good guy.”
Hell, he wanted to know more, but he didn’t know how to ask without Sam thinking he was interested in Holly. Curiosity and self-preservation battled in his head. He cleared his throat. “So do they get along? Ben and Holly, I mean.”
“Yeah.”
Dan looked down and took the final plunge. “Do you know why they broke up?”
Sam didn’t answer and Dan looked up. His brother was trying hard not to laugh. “What’s the big deal? I’m curious. It’s not like there’s anything else to talk about. Forget it,” Dan muttered, resisting the urge to fling a French fry at him.
“Hey, all I know is Holly wanted to settle down in one place and Ben didn’t.”
The next question would give him away, but he had to ask. He didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize his relationship with his brothers. In as careless a tone as he could muster, he said, “You know, I’ve been thinking I was dead wrong about Johnny’s interest in Holly. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. What do you think?”
“I also think you should’ve kept your mouth shut.”
Dan glowered.
“Fine,” Sam said, as if he were about to answer. Instead, he stuffed his mouth with fries, chewed slowly, and made a huge show of swallowing them down with beer. Dan was getting ready to kick him under the table. “I am of the strong opinion,” Sam began with mock solemnity, “that Johnny has never been into Holly in that way.”
Dan nodded and leaned back.
“Why the sudden interest in Ben and Johnny’s feelings?” Sam grinned. “Although I have a strong opinion about why you’re interested, if you want to hear it.”
“No. I don’t. I’m interested because people are interesting.” Dan shrugged.
“You sound like Johnny now.”
“Never let Johnny hear you say so.”
“Never let me hear you say what?” Johnny slapped Dan’s back and sat down.
Sam and Dan’s eyes met. “Dan here’s getting in touch with his personable side,” Sam explained.
“About time. Maybe we should all try a grown-up outing again. Jenny said something about a jazz concert tomorrow night.” Johnny grabbed a fry and popped it into his mouth.
“Sure. As long as it doesn’t involve wine.” Sam nursed his beer as if he’d never part from it again.
“Sounds good, I guess.” Dan looked up at the clock. Fifteen minutes to seven. Would she show up? “I’m off.” He shot up.
“But it’s early.” Johnny looked surprised.
Sam grabbed his arm before he could take off. “Behave,” he said, his serious look belying his casual tone.
“What’s your definition of behave?” Dan asked.
Sam considered him. “All cards on th
e table.”
“Then we agree.” Dan left before Johnny could ask what was going on.
Dan rolled up to the Craftsman. The new roof and paint job looked great. He walked in and tried to see everything through Holly’s eyes.
All that was left were the kitchen countertops. He hadn’t ordered them, and that alone would make him a week late with the supplier Sam had recommended. The kitchen cabinets were in and stained the same color as the trim and molding. He stood in the middle of the room, trying to picture the less expensive black granite he’d decided on from the very beginning.
He shook his head and looked out the kitchen window toward the house next door. Holly’s curtains were open, and he could see Holly, Ella, and Ruby decorating a Christmas tree. Flurries had stuck onto the window, giving it an etched look, and the scene looked more like a postcard than reality.
Dan exhaled. She wasn’t coming.
But something about the scene held him captive. He didn’t associate the holidays with warm family memories the way others did. Marianne would always sneak extra gifts for Sam and Johnny under the tree without their father’s knowledge. The extra presents never mattered to Dan because it wasn’t about stuff. It was about Marianne wanting him to know he was different. And Sam and Johnny’s combined guilt over their mother’s behavior only made it worse.
Marianne’s parents had always treated him well, though, even though they didn’t like his father much.
As he looked over at the tight-knit women, he got a bit of that warm holiday feeling people were always talking about. A quick glance at his watch told him it was only seven o’clock. Maybe they hadn’t eaten. Maybe they’d appreciate a pizza?
“Hi, Dan.” Ruby opened the door and greeted him with a wide, welcoming smile.
“Hey, Ruby, good to see you again.” He kissed her cheek. “I was just about to order a pizza, but they only deliver if you order two or more. Do you guys want to join me?”
“Pizza!” Ella began jumping up and down. Stanley barked.
“As if I could say no now.” Holly smirked.
“Okay, well, I’ll bring it around when it gets here,” he said, unsure of how one went about crashing a family’s Christmas tree–decorating event.
Holly’s eyes twinkled. “Do you want to help us decorate?”
“You can help me reach the top!” Ella exclaimed. “Mom’s too little.”
“And you can help me untangle the lights.” Holly shoved a set of lights his way.
“Holly’s too little and too impatient,” Ruby explained.
“I’m very patient. I saved for a house for five whole years, remember? Detangling lights is a frustrating process, is all.”
“I’ll help you untangle the lights if you try not to make me feel bad about the house tonight,” Dan offered.
“You feel bad?” Holly looked up, surprised.
Dan held her eyes. He’d meant it kiddingly, but his heart ended up sinking for the second time that night. Sherry was right. Holly deserved to have all her dreams come true, but because of him, a dream she’d worked for hadn’t.
“We’re having a Christmas movie marafon,” Ella called to him.
“Marathon,” Ruby corrected before turning to Dan. “Will you join us for that, too?”
“Uh, we’ll see.”
Ella bounced on the sofa and gestured to the star. He was pretty sure the star was the last thing to go up, but Holly and Ruby shrugged as if they didn’t mind.
Dan lifted her up and the little girl squealed when the star toppled over. It took three tries, with Dan helping her straighten the star. He avoided Holly’s gaze by picking up the set of lights she wanted him to unravel.
He ate chocolate, strung lights, hung ornaments, and listened to their girl talk and memories. They chattered nonstop, but were sure to include him by asking him to share his thoughts on everything.
When every decoration—from construction paper snowflakes to heirloom ornaments—was up, and the tree twinkled brightly, Ella handed him the remote control. “Movie time. Sit here,” she instructed, dragging a bean bag next to the tree.
“How many movies constitutes a marathon?” he asked Holly.
“Three. She gets to stay up as late as she wants the night we decorate the tree. It’s our tradition.”
As late as she wants? “And do they all involve princesses?” he asked, dreading the answer.
Holly bit her lip and nodded. “We’re starting with Disney Princesses: A Christmas of Enchantment.”
Ella looked at him expectantly, and Ruby tried not to laugh. “Sure, I’ll stay and watch.” He pasted a smile on his face for Ella’s sake. Ella clapped, excited, and Holly beamed at him. They were all beaming at him. Even Stanley. It was ridiculous, but it gave the whole evening a warm, hazy glow.
He laid his head on the bean bag, stretched his legs out, and settled in to watch five princesses sing and dance, feeling oddly at home under the glow of the candy-colored Christmas lights, Stanley curled up beside him.
Holly was about to nod off again, when the last song in Sleeping Beauty came on. She’d seen the same movies countless times, and she was sure she’d drifted in and out of consciousness more than a few times. Dan lay sideways on the floor, using the bean bag as a pillow. Her heart squeezed hard in her chest as she watched him. He was a good guy. And he looked strong and capable, even at rest. He wasn’t cuddly, but she knew his arms around her would make her feel something much better than cuddled, something warm and solid. Her heart unclenched and her pulse began to speed up.
“Dan, you’re snoring!” Ella interrupted Holly’s thoughts.
“Ella, don’t wake him.” Holly sat up. Grandma Ruby was getting Ella’s things together, and Ella looked like she could stay awake for another month.
Dan opened his eyes and sprang up. “I watched the whole thing.”
Ella giggled.
“Thanks for the pizza and the help, Dan.” Grandma Ruby came out of Ella’s room. “Ella and I are leaving now.”
“You and Ella are leaving?”
“Dan’s leaving, too,” Holly was quick to say.
“Yes, I am.” Dan got up and walked to the door.
Holly followed him. “Is it too late for a tour?” she asked, fiddling with the doorknob.
Dan didn’t answer, and she looked up. “It’s not too late,” he said the moment their eyes met.
Holly waited until her grandmother called to let her know they’d gotten home safely. Then she placed a small gift she’d made for Dan into a cross-body bag, swung the strap over her neck and across her chest, and left.
Moments later an energetic Dan, so unlike the sleepy form that had been sprawled on her floor not twenty minutes before, answered her knock.
“Come in.” Dan took her hand and quietly led her around, letting her discover things for herself, and Holly had to bite down on her lip. He was trying so hard to look nonchalant . . . but he was failing. Miserably. Her hand felt warm and secure in his and she felt at home.
He guided her toward the stairs. “This is where we first met.”
“There’s a mood-killing thought.” She freed her hand to caress his scar.
He leaned in and touched his forehead with hers. “Not when that feels so much better than your flashlight.”
“Do you still think I have maniacal eyes?”
“Yes.”
She dropped her hand and glared at him.
“Maniacal, happy, excited, sad, scared . . . lusty. Your eyes show your moods, Holly.”
“Well, you can cross lusty off the list now.”
“That was on purpose. I want to show you the house and the way you were looking at me, I thought you were about to carry me upstairs to the bedroom.”
Holly punched his arm, whirled around, and walked away.
He grabbed her hand and led her around. He didn’t say anything, wanting her to discover things for herself.
“Omigosh, you’re almost done!” she exclaimed.
“I’ve onl
y got the kitchen countertops, indoor painting, and landscaping left. Same with all of the houses I’m supervising.”
“Dan . . . you went with the light mahogany instead of painting them white.” Holly looked up at him, tears clogging her throat.
“Don’t go thinking your binders had anything to do with it. I had them stain a piece, and after bringing it back here, I decided the way the light comes in suits the lighter stain better.” He was caressing her palm with his thumb in a way that seemed to belie his words, but she told herself it was her imagination.
“The kitchen cabinets aren’t ivory, but they look good,” she observed. “Not adventurous, but still good.” Holly looked at the paint chips taped to the walls. Mossy greens, rusty orangey-reds, and deep mustards. “You’re using the paint colors I suggested,” she singsonged as she climbed the stairs.
“You’ve been breaking into the house for years, so you obviously had time to study it and make the logical choices.” He placed his hands on either side of her waist as she climbed, warming her skin right through her thick sweater.
“I’m logical now, am I?” She turned.
“You seem to adhere to some sort of order. You’re organized down to the little glass containers in your kitchen, your exasperating binders, and your ornaments—”
“You call that organized?” she scoffed. “I call it diseased.” She entered the master bedroom and gasped. It was complete, everything as she’d dreamt it to be. A small, misshaped Christmas tree overwhelmed with dozens of tiny lights sat in a corner. “What’s that?” She turned to him, feeling as lit up as the little tree.
“I ran over to the drugstore to buy one and it was the only one they had left. There’s something about those twinkling lights. They’re all over town, and they make even the run-down houses look . . . I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Promising?” she asked.
“Promising.”
There was a full-size mattress on the floor. Holly looked at it and tried to swallow past the fear that was threatening to send her home.
“This is going to sell fast, I know it,” she remarked. Her voice sounded strangled to her own ears.