The Merriest Magnolia

by Michelle Major

  The boy looked toward Carrie, who nodded despite her better judgment. “Dylan’s already irritated with me. I might as well make the most of it.”

  Sam grinned then followed Violet and Shae out the back door.

  “Irritated,” Avery said with a laugh. “You basically told the guy you want to run him out of town. I’m not sure irritated is going to cover it if you now go to bat for Sam getting a dog.”

  “And yet you invited them to Thanksgiving,” Meredith pointed out. “Are you sure you don’t still have a thing for him?”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Carrie glanced over her shoulder to make sure Dylan hadn’t walked into the room.

  “Where is he anyway?” Gray asked.

  Carrie shook her head. “I’m not sure. I’ll go check on him.”

  “Maybe hold off on mentioning the dog until after he’s blissed out in a Thanksgiving food stupor,” Avery suggested.

  Carrie made her way to the front of the house again, a chorus line of butterflies dancing across her stomach. But Dylan was nowhere to be found.

  She looked out the window of the sidelight and then opened the front door.

  “Everything okay?” she asked as she stepped onto the porch.

  Dylan sat on the wooden steps, a bottle of red wine at his side.

  “Why did you invite me here?”

  “Because Sam needed a real Thanksgiving meal and the two of you are a package deal.”

  He chuckled and looked up at her. “I appreciate the honesty. I wondered if you and your sisters had some plan to lock me in the basement so I can’t move forward with my plan for the town.”

  “Or we might feed you to the rescue pigs,” she suggested as she dropped down onto the step next to him.

  Dylan blinked. “There are rescue pigs?”

  “Meredith can’t turn away an animal in need.”

  “Big hearts must run in the family despite your father. You couldn’t help but reach out to Sam.”

  “That was purely selfish on my part. He’s got talent and I need help with the backdrops for the carnival.”

  “Either way, thank you,” he said softly, and the rough timbre of his voice set sparks alighting across her skin. “Sam needed this.”

  She nodded, understanding at some bone-deep level all the things he wasn’t saying about how difficult the past year must have been for both him and the teen. “Are you coming in or should we bring out a plate of food for you to the porch?”

  “I hate the holidays.” He turned to her and his denim-clad knee grazed her leg. She’d worn one of her usual comfortable dresses with ankle boots, and the thin fabric felt like not nearly enough of a barrier between them.

  “I remember,” she said softly. “I hated that your mom and dad didn’t make more of an effort.”

  He shrugged. “Sam’s parents always hosted Thanksgiving and Christmas. They did big events with people from the office and their extended circle of friends. I’d stop by for a drink or some food and then duck out when no one was looking. Because you know what?”

  She inclined her head.

  “The holidays can bring out the worst in people. All the crap from childhood comes up and everyone is pretending to be happy even if they’re miserable on the inside. Society has put overblown expectations on this time of year and when no one can live up to the ideal people are pissed about it. So now I’ve got this kid who’s already sad—and with good reason. I’m supposed to come up with fake cheer and hope that’s going to make things all better for him.”

  “What about the part that isn’t fake?” she asked, shifting closer and placing a hand on his thigh. It was a conscious move but somehow Carrie had to get through to him, to make him understand that there was more to Christmas spirit than the materialistic side of things. “This time of year is a reminder for people to do better, to care more.”

  He snorted.

  “I’m serious,” she insisted. “As corny as it sounds, sometimes we need the holidays to pull us from our normal routine. To motivate people to focus on what’s good in their lives. They can remember what they loved about this time of year in the first place.”

  “News flash, Carrie. There is no ghost of Christmas past to reminisce about the halcyon days of yore.”

  “Maybe not for you,” she admitted. “But Sam has great memories and lots of other people do, as well. It’s time you made some, for both of you. What we want to offer isn’t just about getting people to shop in Magnolia, although yes, the financial aspect is part of it. We want to give them a true Christmas experience.”

  “You really believe that?” he said with a laugh.

  “With my whole heart.”

  “You amaze me.” He reached out to trace a finger along her jaw. “With everything you’ve been through you should be cynical and bitter. Your dad built his reputation of manipulating emotions and selling the promise of an ideal life that had nothing to do with his own actions.”

  “Don’t put me on some kind of perfect pedestal,” she warned. “I hate that.”

  He didn’t smile but his eyes crinkled at the corners in a way that made her think he was amused. “Hate is a strong word.”

  “Strongly dislike,” she amended.

  “I don’t want or expect you to be perfect. But I’m still amazed by you.”

  The words sent shivers cascading through her. As if he could read her unspoken response, his eyes darkened, and he leaned in so close she could feel the warmth of his breath against her mouth. She’d never admit how much she wanted him to press his lips to hers. That would be such a mistake.

  Carrie had never in her life wanted to make a mistake more.

  * * *

  DYLAN WANTED TO kiss Carrie so damn much it made his body ache with need. He could tell he wasn’t alone in his desire because her lips parted, and her breath hitched as if in anticipation.

  It would be easy to give in to the need.

  Easy and stupid as hell.

  He pulled back and stood, grabbing the bottle of wine with one hand and offering the other to her. “We should go in before your sisters think I’m trying to kidnap you and come out like the cavalry.”

  She pressed a hand to her chest as if he’d startled her.

  He’d certainly shocked himself with his restraint. It wasn’t something Dylan was known for in his life. He did what he wanted and said what he thought with little concern for the consequences. Being responsible for Sam had changed more than just his propensity to bring home women to his condo.

  Dylan had never aspired to be anyone’s role model but remained committed to doing his best for the boy. Sam liked Carrie, and for whatever reason, the kid was excited about helping with her holiday festival. It probably had something to do with thinking that making Carrie’s plan a success would screw with Dylan in the end, but the reason didn’t matter. Sam’s happiness did.

  The last thing Dylan needed was to give in to his physical longing for Carrie. He couldn’t risk making her even angrier with him and shutting Sam out of the opportunity to volunteer. Not that she would take her feelings for him out on the kid. Carrie could argue until she lost her breath about not being perfect. He knew her heart and it would always be pure.

  Still, he wouldn’t take the chance on making things awkward. And he sure wasn’t planning to examine why all of his internal rationalizing felt more like a flimsy excuse to keep his own heart safe.

  After a moment, Carrie rose without his assistance. “Okay, then,” she said, her tone light. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “You have no idea,” he answered and followed her inside.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “WE’RE NOT taking home a dog.”

  Carrie hid her smile as Dylan squared off with Meredith later that evening in the barn behind the house.

  Thanksgiving dinner had been filled with not only good food but
also tons of laughter. Even Dylan had relaxed, recounting some of his more colorful childhood antics for the group. Sam’s eyes had gone wide at hearing about the class clown side of his often-recalcitrant guardian.

  At one point Carrie had laughed so hard she thought she might pee her pants. The celebration had been so different from the past few years for Carrie, when it had been just her and her father. As Niall’s fame and fortune dwindled, he became more of a recluse and had insisted on Thanksgiving dinner eaten with just the two of them at the carriage house Carrie had rented from Gray.

  She hadn’t ever thought to question her dad’s choice or suggest that they expand their holiday social circle. Only in retrospect could she see how her father had systematically cut her off from potential friends or even boyfriends with his demands and fits of temper.

  If she was honest, Dylan had been the last person to make an effort to be close to her, despite her father’s objections. She still questioned whether he’d initially gotten closer to her hoping for a payout from her dad or if that had come later. But she put thoughts of the old pain aside to focus on the present.

  “What about a goat?” Meredith asked.

  “It’s a rental,” Dylan countered. “They aren’t going to allow goats.”

  “Barry Knox owns the house, right?” Carrie offered him an innocent smile. “I could give him a call if you want.”

  “Please,” Sam begged. He sat on a low bench in the barn’s center aisle. Meredith had opened the doors to several of the stalls, which had been converted into pens for her menagerie of rescued mutts.

  Shae, Avery, Gray and Violet had left about thirty minutes earlier. She could tell Dylan was ready to head home, too, but Sam had insisted he visit the barn first.

  An entire gang of dogs milled about, with two adorable blue heeler puppies doing their best to climb onto Sam’s lap. “They’re so cute,” the boy said with an infectious laugh.

  She watched Dylan pinch the bridge of his nose between two fingers and knew he was a lost cause. It was difficult to resist Meredith when she set her mind to coaxing a person into opening their home to one of her animals.

  Carrie didn’t even like animals and in the past two months she’d fostered a litter of kittens and three guinea pigs.

  Meredith took a step closer to Dylan. “Dogs are good for teenagers. They teach responsibility and can help with stress.”

  “I’m under a ton of stress,” Sam confirmed.

  Dylan shook his head. “Not as much as you’ll be when a puppy poops on the carpet.”

  Just then there was a noise from one of the closed stalls. “What’s going on in there?” Dylan asked as Sam continued to pet the puppies and the other dogs played in the open space of the barn.

  Meredith sighed. “I take in special cases as well and try to work with the animals to rehabilitate them enough to be adopted. You met Avery’s dog, Spot. She was one of those because of her extra weight when she came in. Sometimes it’s more behavioral than physical or a mix.”

  Carrie and Dylan moved across the barn at the same time and looked over the half door. The stall had gone quiet, and Carrie’s breath caught at the sight of the scruffy dog cowering in a corner. The animal had medium-length brown fur. When the dog lowered its head, the fur hung over its eyes like the animal was trying to hide behind a curtain.

  “What happened to this one?” Dylan’s voice was tight with an emotion Carrie couldn’t name.

  Meredith joined them. “Someone found her on a property outside of Wilmington. She was severely underweight, so we have the opposite issue from Spot. I think they were tormenting her with food. It’s obvious she’s hungry but is often scared to eat.” Meredith indicated the untouched bowl of kibble in the corner. “Eventually, she’ll take a few bites, and it’s getting better. But she’s too nervous to be with the other dogs. The social part is going to take a lot of work and training. I’m hoping to find an experienced pet owner willing to take a chance on her.”

  “Do you ever think a dog is a lost cause?” Dylan’s gaze never left the trembling animal as he asked the question. Her pointy ears flicked forward as if she were interested in Meredith’s answer, as well.

  “No,” Meredith said emphatically. “It’s a matter of finding the right fit for each animal.”

  “Sam, come over here.” Dylan gestured the boy forward. “This is the dog,” he said when Sam had joined them.

  Meredith shook her head. “You heard me say that Daisy needs an experienced owner, right?”

  “Daisy,” Dylan murmured. “I like it.”

  “I want a puppy,” Sam complained. “I’ll clean up poop.”

  As if she could tell she was the topic of conversation, Daisy stood up and slowly moved toward the food bowl. She sniffed at it then lowered her head to take a bite.

  “The puppies are adorable,” Dylan agreed then glanced at Meredith. “How long will it take before they’re adopted?”

  “With the holidays coming up, they’ll be gone as soon as I post them on the website. People love puppies.”

  “Of course they do,” Dylan agreed. “Puppies are easy to love.” He glanced back into the stall. “We’ll take a chance on Daisy. Do you offer dog training?”

  Meredith nodded dumbly, and it was strange for Carrie to see her confident, outspoken sister at an apparent loss for words. That was the thing about Dylan Scott. He gave one impression on the surface but then could turn around and surprise a person with his depth. It didn’t shock Carrie that he wanted to take on the challenging rescue. Other than the moment when he’d accepted the bribe from her father, she’d never known him to take the easy way out of anything. He seemed to thrive on making things harder for himself than they needed to be.

  Sam seemed as dumbfounded as Meredith. “You can’t deal with a puppy, but you’ll take some sort of reject mutt who no one else wants?”

  As the boy’s glare sharpened, Carrie’s breath hitched. Was that how Sam saw himself? Losing his parents had made him an orphan that no one wanted and Dylan was stuck with him? It broke her heart that any child could believe that about themselves.

  Although hadn’t she known herself to be expendable on some level? Her parents had loved her in their own way, but their affection was so conditional and their personalities so inherently narcissistic that she’d made sure she was indispensable in all the ways she could. It sickened her to think about how much of her childhood had been spent with her stomach in knots hoping she could please her mom and dad.

  “She’s not a reject,” Dylan said, his gentle tone somehow easing the tightness in Carrie’s chest. Sam still didn’t look convinced. “She’s a creature who got dealt a crappy hand in life,” Dylan continued. “But she still deserves love and a good home. Hell, I don’t even like dogs, and I can see her potential.”

  The boy’s lips twitched at that.

  “Let’s try it, Sam. We might not know what we’re doing or be experts or have all the answers, but I bet with some help we can figure out how to love her.”

  Carrie swallowed back tears as Meredith reached out and gripped her wrist.

  Sam turned away, swiping his sleeve across his cheeks then looked back at Dylan. “Okay,” he whispered. “But you’re scooping the poop.”

  “We’ll thumb wrestle for poop duty,” Dylan offered then reached out and ruffled the boy’s shaggy hair. “What do you think?” he asked, turning to face Meredith. “Can you trust us with her?”

  Meredith took so long to answer, Carrie thought she might actually deny them the chance to adopt Daisy. Finally, she nodded and pointed at Dylan. “I’m still not convinced you’re a good bet. But Sam has a way with dogs. I have a feeling Daisy will thrive with him.”

  Carrie knew that Meredith valued the lives of her rescues more than anything, so she wouldn’t agree if she didn’t truly believe they could handle it.

  “Then it looks like we
’ve got a dog,” Dylan said.

  “I’ll gather the adoption papers and a starter pack of supplies.” Meredith gestured to Sam. “Why don’t you help, and we can go over some of the transition instructions for a shy pup?”

  A slow smile spread across Sam’s face and he glanced at Dylan. “You’re serious?”

  “Crazy,” Dylan answered with a smile. “But serious.”

  “Yes.” The boy pumped his fist and then looked over into the stall again. “Don’t you worry, Daisy. You’ve got a home now and you’ll never have to be alone again.”

  Carrie let out a small noise and looked at Meredith, who was blinking rapidly as if she was trying to not cry. “Happy Thanksgiving, indeed,” her sister murmured then led the boy down the aisle toward the office at the far end of the barn.

  “I blame you for all of this,” Dylan said with a laugh as Carrie joined him in front of the stall. The dog had eaten a few bites of food and then lay down next to the bowl, chin resting on her front paws.

  “How did you decide it’s my fault?” Carrie asked.

  “You invited us to Thanksgiving dinner. If we’d stuck with the instant potatoes Sam never would have gotten the opportunity to finagle me into a dog.”

  “Don’t forget I know you, Dylan. You can make everyone else believe you’re the classic villain with a troubled past and an ax to grind now that you’re back. It would be easier if I could believe that’s all there is to it. But I know you have a heart under your hard exterior.” Unable to help herself, Carrie rose on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Her heart was just so full. “You did a good thing for Sam tonight.”

  Before she had a chance to step away, Dylan turned to her, cupping her cheeks between his palms. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he said and pressed his mouth to hers.

  The kiss was like a homecoming. It felt as if she was finding her way back to the one place she’d always belonged. Not true, of course. She wasn’t a naive teenager anymore who would read into a physical connection to believe it meant more.