Sweet Tidings

by Jean C. Gordon

  Amanda was glad they’d reached the check-in counter so she could casually lean on it until her knees turned back into a solid substance. Eric was talking about them next year cutting their Christmas tree.

  Maybe she had been a little quick to jump to conclusions. Maybe Eric was trying his best to not fall back on acting and practiced actions when pressed by their relationship.

  But, then she was doing her best, too, not to let the protective wall she built around her heart since grad school be insurmountable for either of them.

  “Hi, folks,” an older man greeted them over the counter. “Are you here for a cut tree or to cut a tree?”

  Eric tugged the brim of his ball cap he’d put on when he’d gotten out of the car a little lower, glad that he’d stuck it in his back pocket. Maybe if he’d worn it in the restaurant, the kid wouldn’t have recognized him. Maybe Amanda wouldn’t have brought up his gaffe at the news interview.

  “We definitely want to cut one.” He turned his face toward her. “Can we get a cut one for your mother?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s see how tired you are after one.”

  “What do you mean, me tired? This is a joint effort. Let’s see how tired you are.” Teasing each other. This was how he felt most comfortable. But they had to be serious sometimes.

  “You’re a lot older than me,” she taunted.

  The guy behind the counter interrupted, staring at Eric. “That profile. The voice. You’re Eric Slade.”

  He nodded reluctantly.

  The man switched his attention to Amanda, eying her a little too closely for Eric. “Should I recognize you, too?”

  “I don’t know. I’m the mayor of Indigo Bay,” she said completely straight-faced.

  The man touched his lip and narrowed his eyes. “Indigo Bay. Is that a new movie?”

  “No, we’re busting on you.” Eric checked the man’s name tag. “Larry.”

  “It’s the best beach town on the coast,” Amanda said.

  “And you’re the mayor.”

  “Yes, Amanda Strickland. And if you have any, I’m looking for blue spruce.”

  Way to get down to business, Mayor.

  “I’m sorry. We do have some blue spruce, but none left on the lot to cut.”

  Eric searched Amanda’s face to read her disappointment. What he saw was indecision.

  “Mom and I really prefer blue spruce, and there’s always next year when we can go tree hunting earlier.”

  His heart slammed against his chest with far more force than it should have at her off-hand remark about them together next year.

  “We’ll take already cut ones.”

  “They’re out around the back of the cabin. Pick the ones you want and bring the tag in. The guys outside will wrap them for you.” Larry cleared his throat. “When you come back in, could I have a picture with you?”

  “Sure. And, if you want, I’ll take your card and have my people send you an autographed one.”

  “Thanks, I’ll put it on our wall of famous people who have gotten trees here.” Larry pointed to the side wall with a photo of someone dressed in a Santa costume and laughed.

  “I’ll be in good company,” Eric said, taking Amanda’s hand. As I am now.

  Around the back of the cabin, Amanda slowly walked the short line of blue spruce leaned against the log wall, while he enjoyed the view. Of her.

  She stood one up beside her. “Too tall.” Retraced her steps a couple of trees and selected another. “Too short.” She replaced the tree and reached for the one next to it.

  “What’s the verdict, Goldilocks?” he teased, pulling out his phone and snapping a photo. She looked so cute with her nose wrinkled in indecision.

  “Just right.”

  He stepped to her left. “This one looks about the same height.” He held it upright on her other side.

  She placed her chosen tree on the ground and eyed the one he held. “I’m not sure it’s full enough.” Amanda brushed a couple of branches that were caught up on others and brushed his side in the process.

  He tightened his grip on the tree to control the rush he’d gotten from her touch.

  “Yes, this one is good, too.”

  Eric and Amanda dragged the trees the short distance to the machine that encased trees in net bags. The machine operator took the tags from the tree and handed them to Eric. He and Amanda went inside, and he handed the tags to Larry, who rang them up. He and Amanda almost simultaneously whipped out their wallets.

  “I’ve got this,” Eric said, slapping a credit card on the counter.

  “Nope,” Amanda stood firm. “Mom insisted on giving me money for hers.”

  “Okay, you pay for your mother’s, and I’ll pay for yours. An early Christmas gift.”

  The firm set of her mouth made him think she was going to insist on paying for both. He inched closer and put his arm around her waist. “Okay?”

  “Okay.” She put her mother’s cash on the counter. “Now, how about that picture?” she asked when Larry was done.

  While the man walked around the counter, Eric took off the ballcap and ran his hand through his hair.

  “You’re beautiful,” Amanda said.

  Larry handed her his phone, and Eric stepped beside him and flung his arm around Larry’s should as if they were old buddies.

  “Got it,” Amanda said after snapping the camera a couple times. “Now, I want one for me. A keepsake of my first almost cut-your-own Christmas tree.”

  “Do you want one of you two?” Larry asked when she’d finished?

  “Yes.”

  She changed places with Larry and handed over her phone. Eric handed the man his, too, before he put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. He leaned his head against hers.

  “Great pose,” Larry said as he snapped away.

  But it wasn’t a pose to him. It was what felt natural. After their conversation in the car, he hoped Amanda felt the same.

  They thanked Larry and went out to find that they could fit both trees in the SUV, even with the bike rack in there, too. A few miles into the drive home, Eric slapped his knee. “We didn’t have hot chocolate before we left. That’s an integral part of tree-cutting.”

  “But this was an almost-tree-cutting. I have some cocoa mix at home. We can have some while we decorate my tree.”

  “You’re going to let me decorate your tree? The man who has other people do his decorating?”

  “Why not?”

  He studied her placid profile with skepticism. “I figure you have some sort of structured plan I’m doomed to mess up.”

  Amanda simply snorted.

  They dropped off her mother’s tree and declined Lisa’s invitation to supper. On their way to the cottage, he ordered pizza to be delivered. He carried the tree inside when they got there and eyed the box in her living room labeled Christmas ornaments.

  “I’ll get the tree up and string the lights while you make the hot chocolate. I did that for my mother once I was big enough. Then she decorated the tree.”

  “Okay.”

  The tree went up without a hitch. He smiled when he pulled the lights from the box. Eric had expected all white or blue. There were three strings of flashing multi-colored lights and the gaudiest star he’d ever seen to top the tree. Another side to the mayor that he’d only seen hints of before? He tested the strings and found them all working before he went to work himself. A knock sounded on the door as he went to plug the tree in.

  “I’ll get it,” Amanda said, and came back with the pizza. She placed it on the coffee table, went back to the kitchen, and returned with plates, napkins, and the hot chocolate. “Nice job.” She nodded toward the tree. “Why don’t you reward yourself with some pizza while I hang the ornaments?”

  So she did have a method to her decorating. He scarfed down a slice of pizza and sipped his hot chocolate. But darn if he could figure out what the method was. Amanda’s placement of the ornaments seemed as random as his would be. As she passed
by the table, she took bites of pizza and sips of hot chocolate, until the two of them had finished the food and she had all the ornaments hung.

  “Now comes the fun part.” She picked up two boxes of icicles from the side table next to the couch.

  “Oh, good. Do I get to string them on one at a time with your approval?”

  “Hardly.” She opened a box, took a good handful, and proceeded to fling it at the top of the tree.

  Eric leaped up and grabbed some of his own. “This I can do. Expertly.”

  They laughed and tossed—over their shoulders, from under a leg, one-handed, two-handed—until both boxes were emptied. Then they collapsed in laughter on the couch.

  She caught her breath. “Christmas was one of the times I’d wished I’d had a sibling to share with like this.”

  Eric’s arms trembled as he pulled her to his lap. “The tinsel was fun, but what I feel for you is anything but sibling-like. You know how I said I didn’t know if I was capable of loving a woman? I know now. I love you, Amanda. More than anything on earth.” Before she could react to his admission, he lowered his head and kissed the only woman he’d ever truly loved

  Kissed her until his heart said they were one.

  Chapter 12

  Amanda finished her makeup for work and frowned at her reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t that her makeup wasn’t applied as skillfully as always or that her hair wasn’t just right or that she didn’t look as together as she usually did.

  The problem was that, despite her cool veneer, her insides were a train wreck. She was doing the acting she’d been so quick to accuse him of after the newspaper interview—which had appeared in yesterday’s edition and was all she’d hoped for.

  All of this turmoil because of those three little words Eric had said last Thursday. The words that despite the truth that would have been in them, she’d been unable to say back. Instead, she’d burrowed into the warm rightness of being in his arms. And fallen asleep. She’d woken in the early morning hours to find him gone and had headed to the bedroom. But not before she caught the message he’d scrawled on a napkin on the coffee table.

  Sweet Dreams, Love.

  She hadn’t slept well in the seven nights since. But she still hadn’t brought herself to tell him she loved him, too. Any other time she’d come even close to telling a man she’d loved him, the relationship had headed downhill. She liked what they had and didn’t want to endanger it. So she’d managed the situation since then by being busy when he wasn’t and not busy when he was, avoiding alone time with him. She placed her elbows on her vanity and cradled her head in her hands.

  Eric had taken it all in stride. Amanda lifted her head and smiled in the mirror. He’d acted as if nothing were different, everything was good between them. Maybe he felt the words she believed but couldn’t say. Maybe she wouldn’t have to risk saying them. She slapped her hands to the arms of her seat and pushed the chair back to leave for work.

  Or, she grabbed her phone, she should call Eric and tell him. Make both of their days. Before she could decide, the phone rang in her hand. The number of the engineering company she was working with on the 55+ community outside of Myrtle Beach showed on the screen.

  “Strickland Architecture. Amanda Strickland speaking.”

  “Amanda, this is Kelly at Newkirk Engineering.”

  The firm’s administrative assistant. “What’s up?” Amanda walked downstairs while she talked.

  “Dave has had a heart attack.”

  “Is he all right?” Amanda interrupted.

  “He’s okay, but we have a new engineer on the project while Dave’s recuperating. She’s new to the company, so you haven’t worked with her before. I know it’s short notice, but she wants to meet with all the principals involved in the project here tomorrow morning at nine with a tour of the site progress so far afterwards.”

  Amanda closed her eyes to visualize her schedule for tomorrow. There was nothing she had to be in the mayor’s office for in the morning. “I can clear my schedule for the meeting.”

  The call paused. “Alicia … Alicia Morales, the engineer would like to meet with you and the developer first this evening over dinner.”

  “I can do that.” Amanda wanted to get any project details that included her to be wrapped up by tomorrow so she could take her planned time off for the holidays.

  Kelly gave Amanda a time and a restaurant in Myrtle Beach. “I’ll let Alicia know you’ll be there.”

  Amanda hung up, locked the cottage door behind her, and scrapped her plans to walk to city hall today. She needed to get in her full time this morning before she got ready for the three-hour drive to Myrtle Beach.

  The dashboard screen lit with a call notification from Eric.

  “Hey,” she answered. “What’s up?”

  “If you can spare it, I need your help.”

  “With what?” she asked tentatively.

  “You have to rescue me. Your mother talked me into Christmas ornament painting at Coastal Creations this afternoon. I guess the Tuesday painting maxed out, so they scheduled a second one. And somehow lots of people seemed to know I’ll be there.”

  “That somehow would be Mom. I’m glad to see her getting back to her old self. So what would I be rescuing you from?”

  “Embarrassment. The only painting I’ve ever done is houses and motorcycles.”

  Amanda laughed and relaxed back in her seat. “And how would I do that?”

  “Moral support. You know, hand pats. Good job. That sort of thing.”

  She laughed harder. “What time?” If it were early afternoon, she could squeeze it in before she had to leave.

  “3:00 to 4:00.”

  She pulled into the city hall parking lot and sat with the car on. Maybe she could see if she could push dinner tonight to 7:00. If she dressed and packed before the painting event, she could leave right after and make dinner.

  “Let me see.” Amanda stopped. No, she’d be dropping everything and rearranging her work, her life for a guy. She couldn’t let herself fall into that pattern again. “I’m sorry. I have an unexpected dinner meeting in Myrtle Beach with the new engineer and the developer of the 55+ project there. Tomorrow morning I’m meeting with the entire project team.”

  An exaggerated sigh came across her car speakers. “I tried. Think of me struggling to be artistic in a media other than acting while you’re having a pleasant drive along the shore.”

  “You do understand?” She bit her tongue. Her voice sounded so needy.

  “Of course. Give me a call from your hotel when you’re back from dinner.”

  “Sure.” Amanda stared at the “call ended” message on her dashboard screen. She believed him that he understood.

  But why was she so disconcerted by that?

  “If you don’t stop pacing, you’re going to have to replace my living room carpeting along with the other stuff you’re finishing here,” Lisa said.

  Eric checked the clock on the DVR. Nearly 9:00. “She said she’d call after dinner,” he mumbled under his breath.

  “Sit down.” Lisa pointed at the recliner. “If Amanda said she’d call, she’ll call. She rarely says something she doesn’t mean.”

  Eric dropped into the chair. Is that why she hadn’t returned his I love you? Because she didn’t? His phone rang, and he bolted to his feet. “It’s Amanda. I’m going to, ah, take it upstairs” He punched the answer button to Lisa’s laughter. Why did he feel like he was 15 again with his first real girlfriend?

  “Hi,” he answered softly. “I was about ready to give up. Ornament painting is exhausting labor. All those ladies crowding around to help the neophyte—me. I could hardly fit them all in in the hour we had to paint.”

  “Right.”

  It was so good to hear her voice with her slight southern inflection. Even though they’d talked this morning.

  “And how many of those ladies were single and under age 60?”

  “So, you’re not jealous?”

&
nbsp; “How many?”

  He could almost hear her tapping her foot. “One. The babe from the cottage I put up the Christmas lights for.” No comment from Amanda. He sighed. “And she was there buying jewelry not because I was there. I did have a good talk with Jaden, though. He said my ornament was every bit as good as he could do.”

  “Poor baby,” she soothed.

  “How about you. I see it. You stayed late with the handsome engineer who could talk maths with you that I can’t even pronounce the name of correctly.”

  “Yes, we did get into that, but the engineer was much more interested in you.”

  “You brought me up?” Staking his claim for him? Eric piled the pillows on each other against the bed’s headboard and leaned against them, one arm behind his head and the other holding the phone. He crossed his ankles.

  “Not exactly. She has 10- and 12-year-old boys and groaned something about having seen all your movies with them. I told her you’d send her boys autographed pictures.”

  “But how did she know about us if you didn’t tell her?”

  “Our interview was picked up by one of the wire services from the Charleston paper. She read it in her local paper.”

  “You’re okay with that?”

  “It’s fine. I have to admit I’m more comfortable with the word getting out to people I don’t know than the Indigo Bay grapevine.”

  “You haven’t told anyone yet?”

  She scoffed. “Mom said she knew a couple weeks ago. And when Sonja dragged me shopping for a gala gown, and I told her, she said she’d suspected since we continued our friendship beyond last summer.”

  “So Jeff kept his mouth shut?”

  “I’m talking about pouring my heart out to people and that’s all you have to say?” she teased.

  I could say you can pour it out to me, too. But he needed her to say it to him of her own accord, not because he was desperate to hear it.