- -
- 100%
- +
Her mother glanced at the clock on the mantel above the fireplace. “I guess it is getting late. Oh, don’t forget to take some stuff I thought you might like to have from your old room.” She pointed to the box near the doorway.
Victoria cringed inwardly. Just recently, her parents had finally converted her old bedroom into a sewing room for her mother. The pink walls that used to hold posters of her favorite rock bands were now painted a light tan. Her cheerleading and soccer trophies that used to line the bookshelves were in the attic, replaced by her mother’s collection of patterns. She suspected the pictures of herself and Luke and her friends had found their way into the overstuffed box near the door and she wished she could somehow escape without taking it. She’d purposely left all of this behind.
She bent and picked up the heavy box and turned with a forced smile. “Good night, Dad.”
“Drive safe, honey. The roads are slippery,” he cautioned. He reclined the leather recliner and rested his pie plate on his protruding belly.
“I will. Bye, Mom. Uncle Frank, Aunt Linda.” She advanced toward the porch and gave a quick nod in Luke’s direction. “I’ll see you in the morning…at the store?”
His determined gaze met hers and he nodded. “You bet. You need help with that box?”
“Nope, I got it.” She struggled to open the front door, balancing the box on one arm, then stopped. There was no escaping him. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Luke…you’ve got me blocked in the driveway.”
He swallowed his mouthful of pie and set the plate on the end table. “Sorry, I forgot.” He grabbed his keys and met her at the door.
“Hey, look where you kids are standing.” Her mother chuckled, pointing to the door frame above their heads.
Victoria looked up. Mistletoe hung about three inches above them. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. “Forget it, Mom,” she said, shaking her head as she reached for the door handle. She doubted very much Luke wanted to kiss her, either. She took a step outside, but Luke’s grip on her arm drew her back in.
He looked amused. “It’s mistletoe, Victoria. It’s tradition.”
Her mouth gaped. He couldn’t be serious.
He moved toward her, and she took a step back. His hand tightened on her shoulder, as he lowered his head.
He is serious. Her mouth went dry, and she licked her lips. “Luke…” Her protest was muffled as his lips landed on hers.
The kiss was quick and soft, but her knees weakened under its effect. Off balance, she reached out and grabbed his arm, starting to lose her hold of the box. Luke tightened his grip on her waist to steady her as he moved away and took the box from her.
Victoria’s trembling hand flew to her lips where his had just been.
“That’s the trouble with mistletoe,” he said, his gaze piercing. “You can’t always control who you find underneath it.”
Luke jumped into his truck and slammed the door. The heat of the simple kiss made him only distantly aware of the cold air inside the cab. He slid the key into the ignition. The memories of their past together had faded over time…and then she’d come back. That’s all it had taken.
He’d had the urge to kiss her the moment he’d seen her shocked expression in the store earlier that day. But he hadn’t expected his own reaction to the kiss, which had been meant to annoy her. The joke was on him.
The woman was here for one reason—to take his store away.
His cell buzzed on the passenger seat. “Hello?” he answered, cradling the phone against his shoulder as he turned on the headlights and backed out of the driveway.
“Hey, man, where are you?” His buddy Jim Bishop could barely be heard above the loud background of his surroundings.
“Just leaving the Masons’ house.” Luke shivered, finally registered just how cold it was. The heater in the old truck was cranked, but only chilled air came out of the vents. Ice crystals formed on the inside of the windshield and he rubbed it with the sleeve of his jacket, clearing a narrow chunk of window to see out.
“What were you doing over there?” Jim yelled into the phone.
Luke cringed and pulled the phone away from his ear. “Mrs. Mason invited me to dinner and you know how much good it does to argue with that woman.”
Jim laughed. “I would love to be a fly on the wall when your mom finds out…and she will find out.”
Jim was right. His mother would know soon enough and he dreaded the conversation that was bound to ensue. “Yeah, well, try to keep the news to yourself.”
“You got it. Hey, if you’re on your way home, why don’t you stop by the pool hall? Bob’s wife let him go out tonight and Darren’s on his way.”
Luke hesitated. “Who’s on bar tonight?”
Jim laughed. “You know, if you didn’t break the hearts of all the waitstaff around here, you wouldn’t have to ask that question.”
“That’s not what happens.” Luke scoffed. “We date, we have fun, then we mutually agree to go our own ways…” Most of the time anyway. Of course there may have been women who’d been hoping for something more from him, but he’d learned his lesson about serious relationships the hard way a long time ago.
“Is that why you’re still avoiding Hayley?”
“I’m not avoiding her… I just don’t trust her to pour me a drink at the moment.”
Jim’s loud, hearty laugh came through the phone again. “Well, don’t worry, you’re safe. Melody’s on bar tonight.”
“Perfect.” Luke pulled into a driveway and turned the truck around. A few games of eight ball were just the thing to clear his head. If he’d learned anything so far, it was that he would need his resolve when dealing with his ex-fiancée. “I’ll be there in an hour. I have to stop by the house to let the dog out first.”
“Great, bring your wallet.”
“Sure. I have no problem taking your money.”
CHAPTER THREE
Victoria scanned her room at the bed-and-breakfast, trying to figure where the noise was coming from. She glanced at her laptop screen. The annoying buzzing came from the cable Mrs. Harris had given her to connect to the internet. A timed-out error message appeared on the screen and the buzzing paused, then resumed. Her mouth fell open. Seriously, dial up? She rested her head in her hands as she waited. When Mrs. Harris had said the Brookhollow Inn had internet access, she’d assumed it was Wi-Fi.
The color-themed guest rooms, occupying the two upper floors of the four-level estate were still decorated in an intriguing mix of Victorian, French country and European Old World. Downstairs, the common areas consisted of a sitting room near the front of the house with a large stone fireplace, handcrafted furniture and bookshelves lined with magazines and novels. These were the better-maintained areas of the house, and Victoria suspected it was because they saw the least amount of use.
The dining area with its six-round wicker table and chair sets extended onto a magnificent, large wraparound deck with a view of the big, fenced yard. She’d been disappointed to see that the large floor-to-ceiling, stained-glass windows were chipped, and the floral wallpaper was outdated and peeling in the corners. The weather-worn gazebo still stood in the center of the yard, near the rock waterfall overrun with weeds; it had been the location she’d selected for the wedding ceremony. In summer, the garden had been the perfect backdrop. Now, draped in mounds of snow and ice, the bare trees and neglected rock beds seemed just a sad shadow of a more elegant time.
The buzzing stopped and her home page opened at a snail’s pace. She typed her remote access login and password and hit Enter. Nothing. The hourglass icon appeared on the screen. “Oh, come on.” Her BlackBerry revealed thirty-two new messages, which the cell service here maddeningly prevented her from accessing. At this rate it would take her until midnight to read and respond to them all. Her voice mail could wait until morning; it was too late to return calls now anyway.
She stood and stretched at the bedroom window. The street below was dark and quiet—a typical Monday night in Brookhollow. In the city, the sound of traffic and the glow of lights were a constant reminder of life in continuous motion. She missed the noise and distraction. Here, the silence allowed her to hear her own thoughts.
Raising a hand to her lips, her cheeks heated. When she’d left home, she’d been certain the memory of Luke would plague her forever, but time and distance really did have a way of mending the heart and allowing you to forget. And then one simple kiss had shaken her.
A loud knock on the bedroom door made her jump and she released the thick curtain. Mrs. Harris? Her eyes widened as she opened the door. “What are you guys doing here?” Three of her best friends from high school stood in the hallway. She hadn’t told anybody she was coming to town and guilt now washed over her. She was here for work and she hadn’t wanted to mix business with pleasure. Rachel Harper was the only one she kept in touch with, and she’d been planning to stop in and surprise her at some point. Well, the surprise was on her.
“We went by your parents’ place. I thought you’d be staying there.” Rachel was struggling to catch her breath after the climb to the third floor. Her flushed cheeks held the glow of a woman eight months pregnant.
Victoria shook her head. “They finally transformed my old room.”
“Anyway, we didn’t want to wait any longer to see you,” Rachel said, struggling to lean in to give her a hug, her belly making it difficult to get close.
“Hey, girl, long time,” Lisa Cameron said as she hugged her next. “We haven’t seen you since Rachel’s wedding’ How long ago was that—three years?” Tall and thin, Lisa towered over the others, just as she always had. With her long, dark hair and slanted, hazel eyes, she could have signed a modeling contract anywhere in the world. It amazed Victoria that her beautiful friend had chosen Brookhollow and the domestic role of wife and mother instead.
“I know. I should visit more. I just travel so much for work, being at home in New York is a luxury.” Besides, she didn’t add, a vacation to Brookhollow couldn’t be classified as a vacation. She’d be constantly checking around the corner for a member of the Dawson family. One in particular, the one she couldn’t avoid this time.
Ava Miller took her hands. “Wow, you look even better in person than you do on Facebook,” she said, laughing. “And those are the best pictures anyone has of themselves.” She tossed her red hair over her shoulder.
Lisa nodded her agreement. “You’re telling me. Kenny has his high school football picture posted. He refuses to believe he looks a day older, despite the receding hairline and beer belly, which gives Rachel’s massive bulge a run for the money.”
“Hey!” Rachel protested, swatting her friend’s arm, as she joined them in laughter.
“It’s true, Rachel, you are huge.” Ava raised her eyebrows, staring at the protruding stomach fighting the constraints of the buttons on Rachel’s coat. “Are you sure you’re not having twins again? They say if you’ve had them once, the likelihood increases you’ll have them again.”
This would be Rachel’s third pregnancy and fourth child and the Harper family didn’t seem to be slowing.
“The doctor confirmed it—one baby.” Rachel looked terrified as she patted her middle. “He better be right.”
The playful interaction between her friends warmed Victoria. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed them. It shouldn’t surprise her that they knew she was in town. She suspected by now everyone did.
“Um…did you guys want to come in?” She glanced at the stack of paperwork on the desk and struggled with a sense of obligation. She really had a lot of work to catch up on.
Rachel waved a hand. “No, your friend from New York…” She paused, thinking hard.
“Heather?” Victoria guessed.
“Yes, that’s it. Sorry, I can’t remember anything these days with this pregnancy. I swear it’s like living in a fog for nine months. Anyhow, she messaged me on Facebook earlier today— I guess she found me among your thousands of friends.” Rachel laughed.
Two hundred and sixty-four, and not real friends. Mostly business acquaintances. She actually knew only a handful of people on her friends list.
“Anyway, she confirmed the rumors that you were arriving today and agreed that we had to take you out for a night on the town.” Rachel suppressed a yawn. She unbuttoned the top of her coat and fanned herself with her gloves.
Heather. She should have known. “You don’t look like you’re up for a night on the town.” Victoria smiled sympathetically.
Rachel scoffed. “Nonsense. I’m the life of any party. Let’s go.”
“That’s right, grab your coat,” Lisa chimed in. “I got a babysitter for the first time in six years.”
“Me, too.” Ava high-fived Lisa.
The two looked giddy at the prospect of an evening out. Something she took for granted in New York. Other than her extensive travel schedule, she had no real responsibilities. She was lucky. She could come and go as she chose. Her friends’ lives were foreign territory.
She didn’t want to disappoint them, but the messages in her in-box needed a response. She hesitated. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere. I have a lot of work I need to catch up on.” A glance toward her laptop screen revealed the internet connection had timed out again. “Where would we go anyway?” she asked, eyeing them with suspicion. The choices in Brookhollow were slim. If they said the karaoke bar, she was locking herself in this bedroom.
“Just to the pool hall for a drink.” Rachel rested her hands against the back of her hips and blew a lock of wavy brown hair off her forehead.
Victoria frowned as she studied her friend. “I thought you were supposed to be on bed rest?”
“No, I’m fine now. I’m past the thirty-six-week mark, so the doctor says I’m okay to deliver anytime now.”
Victoria’s eyes widened.
Rachel laughed again. “Don’t worry, I won’t. Believe me, this little one likes it tucked in under my rib cage. I’ll be lucky to coax him or her out when it’s time.” She rubbed her side.
“I don’t know…” Victoria hesitated. “You guys could just come in for a while.”
Lisa glanced past her into the room and nodded toward the laptop. “They have free Wi-Fi at the pool hall.”
“I’ll grab my stuff.” Victoria dove for her coat.
As Luke drove past the Brookhollow Inn on his way to the pool hall, he stepped on the gas, ignoring the temptation to go see her. Of all the ways he’d envisioned her coming back to Brookhollow, he never in a million years would have expected this.
Noticing his gas light illuminated on the dash, he turned the truck into the lot of the only station in town. He had no choice, but before stepping out of the truck, he glanced through the front window of the minimarket, toward the cashier, holding his breath. Thankfully, Mike Fisher was working the night shift and not Mike’s sister, Cheryl. He was running out of excuses for why he hadn’t called her for a second date and, while he felt bad about it, he didn’t think it would be fair to lead her on when they clearly had nothing in common. Eight years his junior, he’d been hesitant to even go on the first date, but it turned out she was a little too mature for him. The ticking of her biological clock had been louder than the music playing inside the café. And while he could respect and admire her for knowing what she wanted out of a relationship, he also knew what he wanted. And he hadn’t given any thought to getting married and having children in a long time, not since Victoria.
Maybe Jim was right, he thought, as he jumped down from the truck and jogged into the store, he had to stop dating local women.
He pushed through the glass door and waved in greeting. “Hey, Mike.” He took his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out his credit card.
“Hey, Luke. My sister was just saying how your truck must get amazing mileage. We haven’t seen you in here for weeks. Forty in gas?” he asked, taking the card and sliding it through the register.
Luke blushed. “I’m not avoiding her… Of course not… I’m just…”
Mike grinned. “Avoiding her?”
“Yeah.” Luke looked away, embarrassed, as he replaced his card and slid the wallet into his back pocket. “Sorry, man. Your sister’s great’ I’m just not really looking for anything serious.”
His sisters had a theory about why that was. One they had no problem reiterating at each and every family get-together. Family dinners at the Dawson home often turned into an intervention, as they insisted on discussing his apparent fear of commitment. Ultimately, the blame always returned to Victoria and her untimely departure from Brookhollow.
While he couldn’t deny the theory held water, he knew his choice to remain single couldn’t be completely blamed on his ex. He just couldn’t seem to find anyone he wanted to spend an extended period of time with. No one he’d dated in recent years had challenged or intrigued him enough. He refused to believe he had unreal expectations.
“She told you about her one-year plan from date to altar, huh?” Mike said, handing Luke a pen to sign the credit card receipt.
“About five minutes in,” he confirmed, scribbling his signature and handing Mike back the pen.
“Well, you don’t have to drive the truck until you’re running on fumes. She’s going out with a guy on my hockey team. They’ve really hit it off, so you’re off the hook.”
Luke released a sigh of relief. “Thanks. I owe you one.”
“So, I noticed a green Infiniti rental with a familiar blonde at the wheel drive by this afternoon.” Mike leaned against the counter. “Anyone we know?”
“Yeah, the town troublemaker,” Luke confirmed with a wry grin.
“Aka Victoria Mason?”
“The one and only.”
“She’s here to buy out Legend’s Sporting Goods, right?” Mike asked as the phone behind him rang.
“If I let her, yes.” Once again he prayed he was up to the challenge of going head to head with her. The girl he remembered was persuasive and determined. He suspected she’d stop at nothing to acquire the store. She’d said as much, and that worried him.
“So what you’re saying is, the store is hers.” Mike grinned and answered the phone.
Rachel yawned as she stirred the ice in her virgin cosmopolitan.
Victoria glanced up from her laptop. “Are you sure you’re okay?” So far she’d sorted out many of the issues in her in-box, and she pushed aside her guilt for only half listening to her friends reminisce about the old days.
“Yeah.” Rachel nodded, despite her tell-tale droopy eyes. “I just haven’t been up this late in a while,” she said, struggling to hide another yawn behind her hand.
Victoria laughed, glancing at the time on her cell phone. A little past ten-thirty. In New York, she and Heather wouldn’t even have hit the clubs yet. Not that she would ever call the pool hall a club. Six pool tables were sandwiched in a dark corner near the bar and a tiny wooden dance floor, just big enough to hold a dozen people, provided the club portion of the hall. The bowling alley occupied the same building to the left and the movie theater was on the right. Not exactly a trendy hot spot. But somehow, it put her at ease, after the stress of the day.
“No… Kenny, listen to me… His rash cream is on the shelf next to the changing table.” Plugging one ear with her finger, Lisa yelled into her cell phone above the Christmas music blaring from the speakers.
Victoria picked up her phone, wondering how Lisa was getting cell service in here. Nothing. She shook the phone to no avail, and set it aside. Her provider was getting an earful when she could finally call them.
Lisa rolled her eyes. “Yes, that’s right…just put a thick layer all over his butt… Yes, bye,” she said shutting her old flip phone and shaking her head. “Seriously, that man wouldn’t notice something unless it jumped off a shelf and strangled him.”
“Jeremy has a diaper rash?” Ava asked, sipping her white wine. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Yes. Last week he had a stomach flu and his poop was runny, you know…that yellow color—mustard consistency.” She wrinkled her nose.
Ava nodded her understanding. “With that rancid smell… I know it well,” she said with a shudder.
Victoria stared at the two. She pushed away her plate of chicken wings. It was too late to be eating fried food anyway.
“The poop I can handle. It’s the vomit. That curdled-milk vomit,” Lisa added, sitting back in her chair.
Ava waved a hand and said, “I told Darren, I’d change dirty diapers all day long, but vomit was his department.”
Victoria stared at her laptop screen, trying to drown out the conversation around her. Poop and vomit. Were these the same girls who’d refused to pick up their own dogs’ crap when the town implemented that law?
“Girls, I think we are grossing Victoria out,” Rachel said with a laugh. “Sorry. That seems to be all us moms can talk about these days. We’re dying for a night out, but then we all miss our kids.”
“It’s no problem, really. Sorry, I’ve been attached to this computer for the last hour.” Victoria scanned the remaining unanswered emails. She sighed and closed the laptop. She deserved a break.
“So, how about you? Any plans for kids in your future?” Ava leaned forward and a lock of her red hair fell into her face. She pushed it back and secured it with a bobby pin.
Victoria gulped her drink and shook her head. At this stage of her life, children weren’t even a consideration, and the prospect of having a family someday grew smaller with each passing year. Wiping the condensation from the glass with a finger, she said, “Um…no. My position at Clarke and Johnson takes up so much of my time. I travel a lot and there’s hours of overtime almost every day.”
“But you have a boyfriend,” Lisa said. “I saw pictures of you with a guy on Facebook.”
Pictures of her with a guy? Oh, Rob. She shook her head. “He’s just a coworker I dated for a while.” She should update her Facebook profile more often and maybe remove some of her older photos, especially now that Rob was engaged to another colleague. “Nothing serious.”
“So, there’s no one special in your life?” Ava asked, toying with the stem of her wineglass.
“Um…” She debated telling them about Jordan—a guy she’d connected with through an online dating site in a moment of poor judgment, self-pity and too much wine, four months before. With her busy travel schedule and his long hours on Wall Street as a trader, so far they’d managed to make time for three quick lunch dates and countless late-night chat sessions over Skype whenever she was out of town.
She was disappointed that those calls wouldn’t be possible on this trip, with the dial-up access at the Brookhollow Inn. She’d emailed him explaining the situation, attaching an invite to her company’s Christmas party on December 20. It would be their first real date and a chance to introduce him to her friends and coworkers. She hesitated. Her Brookhollow friends wouldn’t understand why she’d had to turn to online dating when she lived in a big city, full of interesting, single people. Nor would they understand that work took priority over relationships. “Not really,” she said finally.
Ava and Lisa shared a look.
It took all of Victoria’s strength not to question the exchange. So, she wasn’t married yet. She didn’t have a house full of kids. Did that mean she was a failure? Her mother certainly thought so, but she’d expected her friends to be more open-minded. She’d chosen a different path and there was nothing wrong with that. Was there? The awkward silence spoke volumes. She couldn’t stand it. “I mean, there is one guy.”
The girls looked hopeful.
“Go on,” Lisa urged, moving her chair closer to the table.
“Tell us about him.” Ava nodded.
“Well, right now we’ve just been texting and video calling a lot…a few lunch dates…” Victoria blushed, praying the confession didn’t sound as lame as she thought it did.
Ava looked disappointed. “But you are going to go on a real date?”