“How?”
“It doesn’t matter. Let’s just say I had to alleviate my guilt for letting her through the house gates a couple times. Juvenile. I know.”
“Thanks for fessing up. I suspected you had. You’re sure about Maya being taken care of?”
“Positive.”
“Thanks triple for that.” Eric rubbed the back of his neck. “About Amanda. You were dead on about us staging a fake holiday romance to ward off Maya’s stalking. But it’s more than that now.”
“Serious, huh?”
“I’d like it to be if I can manage not to mess it up. I have Jeff coaching me.”
“Not a bad idea.” Chris laughed.
“I can’t wait for you to get to know her.”
“Looking forward to meeting a woman who has you as uncertain of your prowess as us mortal men.” Chris cleared his throat. “If I wouldn’t be imposing, is it okay if I bring someone, uh, special with me?”
“Ha! Cupid got you, too. Those little arrows sting, don’t they? No problem. Bring your lady.”
“Thanks, Dad. We’ll see you Christmas Eve.”
“Bye, son.”
Eric stared at his phone screen. It was so simple. How to get on with his son. Treat Chris like the man he was and not be so fixed on making up for what they missed when he was a kid.
He wasn’t sure how, but he was sure knowing Amanda was behind his epiphany. Unlike any other women he’d known, she made him a better man.
Chapter 10
Done. Amanda stepped back from her kitchen table and admired her work. All her holiday shopping was done, and gifts wrapped. She frowned. Except Eric’s. Sonja and Lauren had kidnapped her from her office for an afternoon of shopping. They’d hit every store in Indigo Bay, and Amanda hadn’t found the perfect gift she wanted to give Eric. The problem was that she didn’t know what that gift was. She’d been certain it would hit her on their shopping spree. But it hadn’t.
Her phone rang, flashing Eric on the screen. “Hi.” She hadn’t talked to him all day.
“Hi, missed you today.”
“Me, too. Mom kept you busy on the house all day?”
“I kept me busy. There’s a lot I’d like to get done, but it’s hard to juggle the work with all the holiday appearances I’m getting pulled into. I’m supposed to be vacationing.”
Guilt erupted inside her. She, Mom, and others were asking a lot of him. Especially her since he’d mentioned his conversation with Chris and that the need for a publicized fake holiday was gone. “I can ask mom to lighten up on the house repairs.”
“I don’t mind the house stuff. I find working with my hands more relaxing than being Eric Slade on stage for the citizens of Indigo Bay.”
That was her. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m being grumpy. It’s all for good causes, Christmas and the animal shelter, and usually, like tomorrow, I get to spend time with you.”
Amanda went all squishy inside.
“Now, don’t tell anyone, but I’m so beat I’m going to go sack out, even though it’s only 9:45.”
“Our secret. Sweet dreams.”
“Only the sweetest with your voice as the last thing I hear before I sleep.”
As corny as they sounded, Amanda didn’t doubt the sincerity in his words and held that in her heart. “Goodnight.”
“`Night, love.” Eric clicked off, adding one more thing—was he saying he loved her?—to the stack of things piled up against her having sweet dreams.
She was nervous about the interview tomorrow on top of her general anxiousness to make this the best Indigo Bay Christmas yet. Spending time with Eric had cut into her mayoral and work duties. To add to her angst, after Public Works and Highway had finally worked out their money sharing, Public Works ran into some problems. The sewage line wasn’t completely replaced yet.
Amanda cleaned up her wrapping scraps and went to bed with “`night, love” humming in her head and heart. While that didn’t give her sweet dreams, it did stop her from tossing and turning, so she woke up rested and ready to go.
She’d picked out a turquoise sleeveless sheath with enough of a blue to its color to bring out the blue in her eyes and woven straw wedge heels with a faux turquoise stone on the arch band—which reminded her of Lucille. The dress had a matching long-sleeved bolero jacket. Amanda had also tucked leggings, tennis shoes, and her favorite Christmas sweater in a canvas bag for their Christmas tree adventure.
Just as she finished her makeup with a dab of fragrance behind each ear, her phone pinged an email. From the head of Public Works. She hadn’t planned on checking email this morning. Her finger waivered over the phone before she opened it. The subject line said, “Good News.” She perched on the edge of the bed and smiled as she read. The crew had stayed late yesterday and finished the sewer line replacement. They were opening it to the Mansion B&B, Public Beach, and the unoccupied cottages this morning.
With a bounce in her step, she went out to her SUV and realized she had no idea if two trees would fit in it. Two steps forward; one step back. Maybe Mom’s bike rack would fit the vehicle, and they could carry one tree on the roof. She tossed her canvas bag on the back floor and her purse on the front seat console and headed to her mother’s.
Eric met her as she got out of her vehicle at her mother’s. Was he as anxious to get going and get this over with as she was?
“Hi, right on time.”
She gave him a quick once over. Sports jacket, t-shirt, jeans—not the well-worn ones she liked so much, but not new, either—and his black motorcycle boots. Amanda felt over dressed and, all the more uncomfortable. “Hi. I’m not sure two trees will fit in my car, so I want to grab the bicycle roof carrier from the garage just in case.”
He nodded. “You look nice.”
“Too much?”
“For tree cutting yes. . .”
“I have other clothes in the car,” she cut in.
“For the interview, perfect. Professional but feminine, and a little sexy.”
Amanda’s face heated. “Thank you. That wasn’t exactly what I was looking for.”
“Works for me.” He grinned and she wanted to fan herself. “Where’s the bike carrier? I’ll get it.”
“It should be along the back wall.” Amanda took the time he was gone to do some deep breathing, take advantage of the slight cool breeze, and listen to the birds singing. She was ready when Eric returned.
“Should I put it on now?” he asked, taking off his jacket and slinging it over his shoulder.
“Let’s wait and see if we need it.” Since what I don’t need is to watch you and your muscles at work putting it on the car.
“Okay. You driving?”
“I thought I would.”
He hopped in the passenger side. “I knew you would.”
She got in her side and stuck out her tongue. “Smarty. I like things under control. But I don’t have to control everything.”
“True.” He drew the word out in his deepest voice.
She shivered at what she couldn’t control.
The drive was uneventful, and the feature writer met them in the newspaper lobby as soon as they checked in. After introductions, she took them to a conference room.
“Thank you for coming here,” she started. “Indigo Bay would have been better. I’d have had an opportunity for pictures. But we feature writers are all on tight schedules. The drive, you know.”
“No problem,” Amanda said. “City hall can provide you with pictures of the festivities underway already, leading up to Christmas.”
“Fine. We need them no later than Saturday morning.” The writer turned to Eric. “So what brings you to our part of the country? Scouting for a new movie?”
Amanda folded her hands on the table. She’d thought Eric told his PR people to stress to the paper Eric’s Indigo Bay holiday connection.
Eric’s lips thinned before they spread into a wide smile and Amanda witnessed him transforming from Eric the friend to Eric
the star. “Friends,” he answered, talking about his and Jeff’s lifelong friendship, the Mansion B&B, his pitching in to help residents put up their decorations, the animal shelter fundraising.
Amanda sat, feeling more and more like the arm ornament she’d teased him about being the evening they’d gone to the Sweet Caroline’s Café. She did appreciate Eric’s efforts to direct the writer to her for answers, even though the writer turned them right back to him.
“Will those attending the gala get to see Maya London, too?”
Amanda’s stomach sank, and anger flashed on Eric face long enough for her to see it, even if the writer hadn’t.
“No, why would they?” he asked pleasantly. “I’ll be escorting my good friend, Amanda.”
The way he’d said, “good friend Amanda,” almost as a caress had her heart pounding and her stomach churning.
She was in trouble. She couldn’t tell if he was being her Eric or star Eric.
The writer was stomping on his last nerve. Granted, she was writing a feature, not hard news. But this was a respected news outlet not Twitter or some tabloid rag. His PR person was going to get an earful when he and Amanda were done here.
“And if people need a further enticement to scoop up tickets to the Barks and Bows Gala … “ He looked at Amanda. “I’m donating a day for two on the North Carolina set of my next movie with paid accommodations the nights before and after to the gala’s silent auction.” He crossed his arms, leaned back in his seat, and gave the info on getting tickets.
“That should wrap things up,” the writer said.
Amanda touched his arm, and he could barely cover the jolt it caused. He was tenser than he’d thought.
“There’s also the Indigo Animal Shelter preadoption clinic and shelter tours,” she said. “People can adopt pets to bring into their homes after the holidays. Eric will be there all Tuesday afternoon.”
“With the mayor,” he added.
“I’m good.” The feature writer powered off her tablet. “The story will be in the paper Wednesday in our special holiday-doings regional section.”
Eric and Amanda thanked her and said goodbye.
“Let’s blow this place,” he said as they walked down the hall to the lobby.
Amanda slowed at the Ladies Room and lifted her canvas bag. “I want to change for the tree cutting.”
“We can stop someplace on the way for you. I don’t like interviews anyway, and that writer got on my nerves. We were there to talk about an Indigo Bay Christmas.”
Amanda unlocked the SUV and they got in. “Is that why you got so public about us? Because you were angry at the writer?”
His chest tightened. “That’s what you thought? No, I want everyone to know.”
Her hand faltered as she pressed the ignition.
“You know when I talked with Chris at your mom’s?”
“Yeah.” She pulled onto the street and headed north.
“I was waiting until today when we were alone to tell you. He said Maya is all taken care of. She’s moved on. We don’t have to pretend anymore. Don’t have to make up some amicable breakup after the holidays.”
Amanda chewed her bottom lip.
Not a good sign. “What did I do?”
She sighed. “It … we’re still so new. I thought we could let ourselves get used to it. Give ourselves a little time for our relationship just to be ours. Time to break it to Mom. I don’t know. Talk with Sonja.”
He put his hand on her thigh, and she didn’t push him away. I think your mother already has a pretty good idea, and I talked with Jeff. Sonja probably does, too. Is that so bad?”
“No.” She shook her head.
He released a pent-up breath. Jeff had warned him about messing things up.
“It’s just that you rushed ahead and announced it to the feature writer. Put us out there, bigger than life.”
“Aw, come on.” He squeezed her leg, gaining a hint of a smile. “Admit it, bigger than life is what you like about me.”
Amanda sobered and pulled into a fast food restaurant. “No, I don’t need bigger than life from you. I just need plain old you.” She shut down the engine and squeezed his hand.
Now, if that didn’t just make him want to shout from the rooftops in elation and bury his head in the sand at the same time.
She opened her door. “Would you order me an Italian half-sub and tea while I change?”
“Sure.” They entered the restaurant. She went toward the Ladies Room and he to the counter.
A few minutes later, he watched her walk to the table where he sat with their order. She was wearing what could be described only as an award-winning ugly Christmas sweater. His mouth went dry. And black form-fitting leggings tucked into black leather boots. The back of his neck prickled, and he glanced around the place. To him, every male from teens on up appeared focused on Amanda. He gritted his teeth until she sat across from him, those legs safely hidden under the table.
“That’s some sweater,” he said shading his eyes as if the sparkles and spangles were blinding him.
She smiled. “I thought you’d like it.”
Not nearly as much as the leggings and boots.
Before he could say anything, a teen boy interrupted, “You are Eric Slade.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to deny the boy, when Amanda said, “Yes, he is.”
He shot her I’ll-get-you-for-this daggers.
She laughed. “Now we’re even. You outed us, and I outed you.” She bit into her sub.
The teen looked bewildered. “Could I, uh, have your autograph?” He shoved a piece of paper and a pen at him.
“Certainly.” Eric took the pen. “Your name.”
“Aidan.”
He scrawled a message and his signature across the paper. “Do you have a phone? How about a picture of us?”
“Yes.” Aidan fumbled to pull his phone out of his back pocket.
Eric stood and nodded at Amanda. “Would you?”
She took the phone from the teen and Eric offered Aiden his signature fist bump.
“Got it,” she said returning the phone.
Aiden looked at it. “Cool.” He scooped up the autograph. “Thanks.”
Eric and Amanda sat. “You know, it used to be the young ladies that flocked to me for autographs. Now it’s teen boys.”
“Poor baby.” She patted his hand.
“I don’t mind. Not now that I’ve got you.”
“Think you’ve got me, do you?”
Why had he said that out loud?
“You do.”
Even he had enough finesse to know he shouldn’t go with his first instinct to pull her from her chair and kiss her senseless. Instead, he lifted her hand, turned it over, and kissed her palm.
The satisfaction he got from her misty eyes and dewy expression was almost as good as kissing her senseless.
Chapter 11
“We’d better get this show on the road. We have two perfect Christmas trees to find and cut,” Amanda said, as soon as she could find her voice. A voice she couldn’t keep the shake out of.
“Yes, we do.” Eric cleared their table and returned to offer his arm.
Amanda hesitated, not sure she could take the unsettling consequences of touching him. She mustered her strength and slipped her arm through his.
Settled in the car, she said, “I’m glad we don’t have to keep up the fake romance pretense anymore, but you have to promise me one thing.”
“Your wish is my command.”
She punched the ignition. “I’m serious. Promise me you won’t drop any publicity bombs I don’t know about ahead of time.”
“You have my word. I’m sorry my execution of my earlier promise was a little sloppy. I got carried away by my feelings. Can I have a retake?”
Her determination to have her say softened, but only slightly. “I have to be able to trust you if we’re going to be anything more than a holiday romance.”
His gaze held hers with wh
at looked like panic in his eyes. “I’ll do my best.”
She broke eye contact and put the vehicle in reverse to pull out of the parking spot. Normally, she would have said that was all she could ask. But the tremor in his voice. It had to be acting. No way she could have affected him that much. Amanda shoved the gearshift into drive and accelerated more than she’d meant to.
Eric sat silent beside her until they were on the highway, and then all he said was, “My phone directions say the tree farm turnoff is eight miles up on the right.”
“Thanks.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. Maybe the moment would pass.
“There,” he pointed ahead seven minutes later.
She knew because she’d involuntarily been timing the silence.
“The sign. Do you see it?” he asked.
That broke the ice wall between them. She laughed. “How could I miss it. It’s a 25-foot sign with neon green and red flashing lights shaped like a cookie cutter Christmas tree.”
He responded with a lopsided smile that went straight to her heart. “I am trying. To be just plain old Eric Slade. Seriously. But I’m a little rusty.”
“You’re forgiven.” She turned and drove down the sideroad to a parking lot next to a log cabin and rows of fir trees as far as she could see. She took his hand when they met in front of her SUV on the walkway by the cabin. It was a little clammy. Again, she was startled at her effect on him.
“It seems weird to be doing this without snow,” he said as entered the cabin.
“Okay surfer guy, you’re not going to tell me your Southern California beaches have any more snow than my South Carolina beaches.”
“No, I’m not. Chris’s maternal grandparents had a cabin in the mountains east of Los Angeles. We got our trees near there. I always tried to choose a day when there was snow. Good times.” His expression animated as if he was seeing the mountains, the snow, his son as a child. “They still let me bring Chris after his mother and I split.”
“I’ve never been in the mountains in winter,” she said.
“Then we have something to do next Christmas. The property I bought in North Carolina for shooting movies goes up into the mountains, and some of the acreage used to be part of a Christmas tree farm. The remaining trees aren’t too tall yet. We can go cut our next year’s tree there in the snow.”
Sweet Tidings Page 9