Brandon stared at the mug.
“I know your mother always had a drink like this waiting for you and your father after you built the snowman, Brandon,” Martha said quietly. “Your mother was one of my best friends, and I still miss her. When that plane your folks were on went down, I was devastated. I hope I haven’t upset you by serving you this drink.”
“No, no, I‘ m fine.” Brandon smiled at Martha. “It was a very thoughtful thing to do. Thank you, Martha.”
Martha nodded and walked away.
“You’re very fortunate, Brandon,” Andrea said. “This whole town is like an extended family for. you.”
Brandon nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I hadn’t thought about it quite like that.” He chuckled. “There’s also a certain lack of privacy, too, you realize. Not much goes unnoticed and ungossiped about here. I’d say there are about twenty people who already know that I kissed a pretty lady in a red coat on the square.”
“Oh,” Andrea said, her eyes widening.
“Don’t panic.” Brandon paused. “Look, why don’t you start viewing your visit here as the vacation that it is. Don’t stew. Don’t worry. Don’t fuss. Just enjoy. Do whatever feels right at the moment. How does that idea sound?”
“I’ve never operated like that in my entire life.” Andrea frowned, then laughed in the next instant. “Correct that. I haven’t been acting true to form ever since I strolled onto the new car lot in Phoenix and bought my candy-apple-red sports car, just as bold as you please.”
“You own a red sports car?” Brandon said with a hoot of laughter. “I don’t believe it.”
“Neither do I,” she said, still smiling. “That’s only one example of what exhaustion has done to my brain.” Andrea paused and stared into space. “I’ve been behaving like a stranger even to myself. Weird. Very weird.”
“But not all bad?” Brandon said, his smile fading as he looked at her intently.
Andrea met his gaze. “No. No, it hasn’t been all bad,” she said softly, no hint of her smile remaining.
No, not at all, she thought. Kissing Brandon, being held in his strong arms, had been wonderful.
Buying her coat, building a snowman, had been such carefree fun.
Meeting friendly people like Aunt Pru, Aunt Charity, Ben, and Jennifer, being so warmly welcomed, was, so nice, so different from what she was accustomed to.
No, being in Prescott was definitely not all bad.
“So?” Brandon said, realizing he was hardly breathing. “Will you do it? Go with the flow, live for the moment at hand, during the remainder of your stay here?”
“Well,” Andrea began slowly. “Yes, I guess so. That’s what I seem to be doing already, so if I agree to your suggestion, then maybe I won’t feel so out of control, so off kilter.” She shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know. Between my exhaustion and adjusting to the high altitude, I don’t seem capable of thinking very straight. I’m not being sensible and organized, like I usually am. And apparently I don’t have much choice in the matter.”
“That’s fine. That’s good. That’s great.” Brandon took a much-needed deep breath. “Just keep on keeping on, exactly as you are.”
“Well, at this precise moment, I’m going to the ladies’ room,” Andrea said.
“It’s in the back,” Brandon said.
Andrea slid out of the booth, and Brandon watched her until she disappeared through the designated door. He shifted his gaze to Andrea’s mug of hot chocolate, then the empty place where she had been sitting.
He liked looking across the table at Andrea Cunningham, he thought. She’d only been gone a few minutes but, well, he missed her, wanted her to hurry back so he could see her smile, hear her laughter, watch the emotions that were reflected so clearly in her expressive dark eyes.
Andrea was becoming very important to him very quickly, he had to admit.
If Andrea hadn’t come to Prescott, he wouldn’t have built a snowman on the square, wouldn’t have relived the fond memories of his father.
Now he was sharing hot chocolate and marshmallows with Andrea, bringing her into his world again, into his past, by having the traditional drink prepared by his mother after the construction of the yearly snowman with his dad.
And it felt good.
And very, very right.
It was as though there had been something missing from his existence since he’d gotten Hamilton House up and running. There had been a void, an emptiness he’d been unaware of, that he’d filled with working long hours at the hotel.
But now Andrea was here and he felt more complete, more at peace, than he could ever remember.
Brandon dragged both hands down his face.
Oh, man, he thought, what was going on here? What was Andrea doing to him? What was happening between them?
He just didn’t know, but he had every intention of finding out.
Butterflies dancing.
Brandon stiffened, every muscle in his body tensing, as his mind suddenly whispered the whimsical story about the butterflies, told to him by Aunt Pru and Aunt Charity.
Was that what he wanted? he thought. To fall in love, see the butterflies dancing, have a home, be a husband and father?
His entire life would change if he chose to travel down that road. Wouldn’t a man know if that journey was the one he yearned for? Maybe not, if there had been no woman to nudge awake those hidden hopes and dreams.
But what if...
Andrea.
Brandon stared at the empty place across the table, envisioning Andrea so clearly he felt as though she’d already returned to the booth.
Was that what was happening to him? he thought, feeling a trickle of sweat run down his chest. Was Andrea slowly but surely opening a dusty door in his heart that had been firmly closed until she’d fainted in his arms?
Brandon glanced up and saw Andrea walking toward him, her coat over her arm, a soft smile on her lips as she approached.
Was he falling in love with this woman? he thought frantically. Did he want to be in love with Andrea Cunningham? He had to have some answers before he went right out of his beleaguered mind.
Andrea slid into the booth, stirred the hot chocolate and took a sip.
“Mmm,” she said. “Delicious and sinfully rich, with all those melted marshmallows in it.” She paused. “You haven’t touched your drink, Brandon.”
“What?” He shook his head slightly. “Oh. Right.” He lifted his mug. “To snowmen and memories.”
And to butterflies dancing? he wondered. He didn’t know. He just didn’t know.
“Hear! Hear!” Andrea said, tapping her mug lightly against his.
They chatted about a variety of everyday topics as they finished their drinks, then they bid Martha and the children goodbye.
When they stepped outside, they discovered that it was snowing again. Andrea tipped her head back, stuck out her tongue and caught a big, lacy flake of snow.
“There,” she said, laughing. “Another first. Snowflakes, however, don’t taste as good as hot chocolate and marshmallows.”
“Nope,” Brandon said, managing to produce a small smile. “They surely don’t.”
Andrea cocked her head to one side and looked at him questioningly.
“Is there something wrong, Brandon?” she said. “You seem so... Oh, I don’t know...tense, preoccupied, all of a sudden.”
“I do?”
“Yes, you certainly do.”
“Well, I...”
“Hey,” a voice called. “There they are.”
Brandon’s head snapped around at the sound of the familiar voice.
Saved by Rizzoli, he thought.
Ben joined Andrea and Brandon where they were standing on the sidewalk in front of the café.
“Ah, the mysterious woman in the bright red coat,” Ben said, grinning. “Who was well and truly kissed by Brandon Hamilton after they built a snowman on the square. And who is that woman? As I live and breathe, it’s Ms. Andrea Cunningham.”
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“Oh, dear heaven,” Andrea said, feeling a warm flush of embarrassment on her cheeks.
“You’re a gossipmonger, Rizzoli,” Ben said, glaring at him.
“No, I’m not,” Ben said. “I’m just an attentive listener. Four people have shared this bulletin with me so far. News does travel fast in Prescott, old buddy. The snowman is a beauty, by the way. I saw it as I was walking over here for some lunch. It reminds me of the ones you used to build with your father when we were bratty little kids, Brandon.”
Brandon nodded.
“It’s my very first snowman,” Andrea said, smiling at Ben.
“Is that a fact?” Ben said. “You’ve lived a far too sheltered life. We need to do something about that.”
“We are,” Brandon said. “Come on, Andrea. We have to pick up the music boxes for the aunts.”
“Snow angels,” Ben went on, ignoring Brandon. “You can’t leave Prescott without having flopped down in the snow and created a snow angel.”
Andrea laughed. “That sounds like fun—freezing, but fun. Do you like my coat, Ben? I’d definitely stand out in a crowd in this creation.”
“It’s stunning,” Ben said. “Red is an excellent color for you to wear, and at the moment it matches the shade of your cold nose.”
Andrea and Ben burst into laughter, the happy sound grating on Brandon’s nerves like fingernails scratching down a chalkboard.
Where did Benjamin Rizzoli get off flirting with Andrea? Brandon fumed. Rizzoli was pouring on his Italian charm ad nauseam. Well, Ben was going to have to find his own woman, because Andrea...
Was his?
Andrea Cunningham was Brandon Hamilton’s woman?
Ah, hell, he was driving himself nuts.
“That’s it,” Brandon said. “We’re out of here.”
“What’s it?” Andrea said, looking up at him.
“It?” Brandon said. “Oh. Well, the weather, the snow, the temperature. You’ll catch a chill if we stand here. Let’s go.”
“Join me for lunch?” Ben said.
“No,” Brandon said quickly. “I mean, thank you, but we just had hot chocolate.”
“With marshmallows,” Andrea said. “It was absolutely delicious.”
“I bet it was,” Ben said. “How are you feeling today, Andrea?”
“She’s fine,” Brandon said, gripping Andrea’s arm. “But she won’t be if you don’t put a cork in it so we can be on our way. Say goodbye, Ben.”
“Goodbye,” he said then hooted with laughter. “Ben.”
“Corny,” Brandon said, frowning.
“It was nice to see you again, Ben,” Andrea said.
“The pleasure was all mine, I assure you, lovely lady,” Ben said.
“Very corny,” Brandon said. “See ya.”
As Andrea and Brandon walked away, Ben folded his arms over his chest and watched them go, a wide smile on his face.
“Fascinating,” he said to no one. “Man, oh, man, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Well, better Brandon than me, and Taylor would agree with me on that score.”
With a rumbly chuckle, Ben entered the café.
Six
The following days and nights seemed to fly by as Andrea fell into an extremely enjoyable routine.
She had breakfast with Brandon in the hotel dining room each morning, then they headed out to explore what he had chosen to show her that day.
They visited three museums, saw endless intriguing specialty shops where Brandon was greeted by people he knew and who welcomed. Andrea with smiles and friendly warmth. Brandon took her for a drive higher into the snowy mountains, affording her a spectacular view of Prescott and the surrounding area.
Ben Rizzoli often joined them for lunch, and Andrea came to thoroughly enjoy the company of the handsome and charming Italian doctor. She laughed herself silly at the banter between Brandon and Ben, knowing that a deep, lifelong friendship was solidly in place beneath their playful squabbling.
They related tales from their mischievous youth, many of which included Jennifer Mackane.
“We still hover over Jennifer like big brothers,” Andrea recalled Ben saying. “We drive her nuts at times.”
“Oh,” she had said, smiling. Brandon considered Jennifer his sister? That was Jennifer’s role in Brandon’s life? For Pete’s sake, why was she registering such a sense of relief?
“Jennifer’s a widow,” Brandon had clarified, bringing Andrea back to attention. “She has a fouryear-old son named Joey. He’s a terrific kid. Ben and I, plus our buddy, Taylor Sinclair, and a couple of other guys we grew up with, are Joey’s official uncles.”
“He’s a fortunate little boy to have all of you,” Andrea’d said quietly.
She’d grown up with no one to call uncle, or aunt, or mother and father, she thought. Joey Mackane would never lack for hugs, for people to be there when he needed them. Yes, he’d lost his father, but he had an extended family who loved him. Lucky little Joey.
Stop dwelling on the past, she admonished herself. She had her career, her dream. It was hers and no one could ever take it away from her, if she stayed focused. Her career was all she needed.
Wasn’t it?
Yes, of course it was. Challenge Advertising was her family, in a manner of speaking. It provided her with everything, and fulfilled her completely.
Didn’t it?
On the day marking one week since she’d arrived in Prescott, Andrea remembered that it was Christmas Eve. Instead of napping in the afternoon, as she usually did, she slipped out of the hotel and bought gifts for Brandon, the aunts, Ben, Jennifer and Joey.
Andrea also made a stop at the store where she’d purchased her coat. With the help of the owner, she selected a dress to wear to the Hamilton House employees’ Christmas party that night, which Brandon had invited her to attend with him.
When she’d returned to her room, she wrapped the presents, making each as pretty and as close to perfection as she could while listening to lilting Christmas carols on the clock radio by the bed.
As she placed the gifts on the closet shelf, Andrea realized that she was actually caught up in the Christmas spirit for the first time.
And it felt wonderful.
With a smile she stretched out on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
She began to sing a Christmas song, terribly off tune, with the radio.
Santa, she mused, was checking his list twice to see who had been naughty or nice.
Andrea sighed, frowning slightly.
She was definitely eligible for the nice side of the jolly old elf’s list as far as her actions and behavior were concerned.
Brandon had kissed her senseless every night at her door, then walked away, to retire to his apartment at the end of the hallway.
That was how it should be, no doubt about it.
But deep within her were what might be viewed by Santa as naughty thoughts and yearnings.
She wanted to make love with Brandon Hamilton.
The heat of passion was building, growing hotter, thrumming and pulsing through her.
Andrea sighed again.
She had never felt this way before, never. Her sexual experience was limited to a few relationships in the past, with no major emotional upheavals one way or another after the fact.
But Brandon?
He was consuming her thoughts even when she wasn’t with him. She could see his smile, hear his laughter so vividly, at any given second. The mere image of him in her mind’s eye caused her to smile, to be filled to overflowing with emotional warmth and physical heat.
She’d learned so much about him during the hours they’d spent together. She’d adored hearing the wonderful tales of his childhood in Prescott, and Brandon’s voice rang with love and respect whenever he spoke of his parents. The same dedication was evident when he interacted with Aunt Pru and Aunt Charity.
Slowly but surely she’d revealed the circumstances of the lonely years she’d spent in foster homes, trusting Brand
on with her innermost secrets.
“I’m so sorry you had such an empty, lonely childhood,” Brandon had said.
“Well, that was then, this is now,” Andrea said. “I have my career, the people I work with, and I am very contented.”
“A job doesn’t take the place of a real family, Andrea.”
“Yes, it does,” she said firmly. “How can you argue the point, Brandon? I don’t see you with a wife and bouncing a baby on your knee.”
“You’ve got a point there,” he said, nodding. “I can’t picture myself mowing the lawn, or going to PTA meetings. As much as I enjoyed my childhood, the life-style my parents had doesn’t fit me.
“That’s not to say I don’t enjoy women’s company. But a lifelong commitment to hearth, home and taking out the trash after dinner every night? No, thanks, I’ll pass.”
“You prefer no-strings-attached affairs that are guaranteed to end eventually,” Andrea said decisively.
“That sounds a tad tacky,” he said, laughing.
“But true?”
Brandon’s smile faded. “Yes, I guess so. I don’t dwell on the subject. I just live my life as I see fit.” He paused. “Andrea, thank you for telling me about your childhood. It couldn’t have been easy to recount all that. I’m honored that you shared it with me.”
“You’re an excellent listener,” she had said, smiling at him warmly. “Even the people who I consider friends in Phoenix know nothing about my childhood.”
Phoenix, Andrea mused. She honestly hadn’t given the city or her demanding career much more than a moment’s thought during the week she’d been in Prescott. Challenge Advertising and her lofty position there might as well have been erased from her life for the lack of attention she’d given it.
She’d been behaving exactly the way Brandon had asked her to-simply done what felt right at any given moment.
And now?
It felt very, very right to want, to need, to make love with Brandon Hamilton.
Andrea pressed her hands to her suddenly warm, flushed cheeks.
Could she do it? Take the initiative and make it clear to Brandon that she wanted to make love with him?
The Andrea Cunningham who had arrived in Prescott one week ago never would have considered doing such a thing. Nor, she supposed, would the Andrea Cunningham who would return to Phoenix soon.
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