A Bravo for Christmas Read online

  Chapter Ten

  “I do not believe this.” Ava wanted to scream. She stood on Dare’s front porch in her big sweater and her stocking feet and glared at the snow that had piled up overnight. “It was just supposed to be a light dusting.” Beside her, Daisy thumped her tail hopefully and gave a sympathetic whine. “It was supposed to stop around midnight. This is just wrong. I need to be at my mother’s place in less than an hour.”

  Dare’s warm hands clasped her shoulders. He guided her around to the open front door. “Come back inside where it’s warm. I’ll get the coffee started. You can call your mother and tell her you’re going to be late.”

  “Late?” A whimper escaped her as she let him push her through the door. The dog followed them in, and Dare closed it behind them. “I might be stuck here for hours. Possibly overnight.”

  “What? You don’t like it here?” He fake-pouted. “I think my feelings are hurt.”

  She hung back at the door to the kitchen just long enough to go on tiptoe and press a quick kiss to his scruffy jaw. “It’s not that. And you know it.”

  “Good. Had me worried for a minute.” He caught her hand and pulled her onward. “In the next hour or two, Corky will be getting out the snowblower to clear the driveway. Even if the main road’s impassable now, the snowplow will be around by noon or so. And there’s nothing to worry about, anyway—I mean, Sylvie’s fine with your mom, right?”

  In the kitchen, Daisy went to her water bowl to lap up a drink. Ava let Dare take her to the granite peninsula, where he pulled back a chair for her.

  She hopped up onto it. “It’s just...what will I say? That I’m stuck at home? It’s not that far from my house to Seven Pines. If the streets in town aren’t bad, she’s going to wonder why I’m lying to her.”

  “She?”

  “As if you don’t know. My mom—and I need my phone.” It was in her tote, and that was in his room.

  He caught her arm before she could jump down from the chair. “Hold on. Why not just tell your mom the truth?”

  Surely she hadn’t heard him right. “Excuse me? Tell her I spent the night with you?”

  “Yeah, tell her you stayed here. It doesn’t have to be a major issue. You don’t have to get too specific.”

  “You can’t be serious. I mean, we had an agreement that no one would know. I can see going ahead with the whole friend thing. That way we can relax a little, and so what if people see us together? We just call ourselves friends. Boom. Done. But to tell my mother, who takes her ongoing quest to find me a new man way too seriously, that I spent the night at your place...?” How to even go on? “Dare, you don’t know my mom. She’s...innocent, really. She was eighteen when she married my dad, and neither of them has ever so much as looked twice at anyone else. If she finds out I spent the night with you, she’s going to start planning our wedding.”

  “You’re exaggerating.”

  “No, I am not. My mom loved Craig, and she mourned when we lost him. But now she can’t stand that I’m a widow raising my little girl on my own. She wants a husband for me. She wants me living in my own personal happily-ever-after, and she’ll never quit until she’s made that happen.”

  He pulled out the chair next to her and sat in it, keeping his hand on her arm the whole time. As though he suspected she might jump up and run off—which, actually, she just might. “Friends often spend the night at each other’s houses,” he said in the patient tone of a man trying to talk some sense into a not-so-bright child. “Think Carter and Paige.” His half brother Carter had married Paige Kettleman in August. For years before that, they’d been best friends—no benefits—and business partners, though just about everyone in town had believed that they were in love with each other and in mutual denial about it. “Carter practically lived at Paige’s house for years. He’d go over there at the crack of dawn to walk her dog for her, and when he got back, he’d cook her breakfast. He had a key to her house, and she had one to his. Half the time, he’d stay so late watching a game or whatever that he’d just crash on her couch. Nobody thought anything of it.”

  “Oh, please. People did think stuff. People thought it was sweet and a little bit sad that neither of them had a clue they were in love with each other.”

  “So what? They did what they wanted, and nobody got on them about it. It was their business.”

  “We are not Carter and Paige.”

  “Right.” His jaw had a knot in it. And his eyes were less blue. Less blue and more...flinty. “We’re not them. But we are actual adults, single adults, who have every right to spend the night in the same house and not explain ourselves to anyone, not even your mother.”

  The really annoying thing was he was right. “Okay, now I’m starting to feel childish and whiny for wanting a little privacy around my personal life.”

  He held her gaze for the longest time. And then he asked, “But Ava, is this really about privacy?”

  She tried to ease her arm out from under his hold. He didn’t let go. And his question kind of echoed uncomfortably in her head. “Okay. You’re right. It’s not totally about privacy. I just don’t want to have to think too hard about this, about us. I don’t want to have to explain us to anyone. I want to love every minute of it. And I am. I want it to be...you know, lighthearted. I want it to be fun—and you’re looking at me strangely.” She tried a grin. “Is my hair on fire or something?”

  He let go of her arm. And he didn’t grin back. “Tell your mom the truth. You might be surprised. She might just be happy you’re having a good time. She might just leave it at that.”

  Now she wished he hadn’t let go of her. She wanted his touch again. She wanted too much from him, and that was starting to scare her a little. Which was why they needed to keep it simple and easy and light.

  She asked sheepishly, “Are you angry with me?”

  His expression softened. “Ava. No. I’m not angry.”

  Relief loosened the knot of tension that had formed under her breastbone. “Good.”

  And then he did touch her again. He eased his wonderful fingers up under her hair and clasped the back of her neck, rubbing a little, soothing her. The guy really did have magic hands. “True, we started out agreeing to keep it private, just between us. But sometimes things work out differently in practice. A plan can seem reasonable at first, and then before you know it the whole thing just feels silly.”

  “Yeah. Okay. I know you’re right.” She hung her head. “Ugh. The truth. To my mother. Really?”

  He tipped up her chin. She looked at him, at his beard-scruffy cheeks, at his manly square jaw and the ginger lights in his brown hair. Just looking at him made her weak in the most thrilling way.

  “The truth is generally better,” he said. “Neater. Lies tend to get so tangled and messy. And then half the time you end up having to tell the truth, after all, which means that you’ve not only lied, you’re a lying fool and now the people who matter to you have reason to mistrust you.”

  She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Well, that’s not especially reassuring.”

  “Consider Jody.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Did you see how relieved she looked when she finally just broke down and told everyone what was up with her? I’ll bet now she’s wondering why she didn’t tell them all earlier.”

  “But that was different.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. A baby isn’t something you can keep to yourself forever. With a fling, no one really has to know.”

  He gazed at her way too steadily. “It’s just the truth, Ava. That’s all I’m asking you for.”

  She huffed. “When you put it that way, keeping us a secret just seems petty and ridiculous.”

  “You think?” He gave her the slow grin that made her want to drag him back to his bedroom and make love to him
in that big chair in the corner. And between the two bureaus, too. And all the places they hadn’t gotten to last night because she’d shut her eyes for just a moment and ended up sound asleep. “Go on,” he said. “Get your phone and call your mom.”

  * * *

  Ava returned to the kitchen after making the call and found that Dare had the coffee ready.

  He held up a cup. At her nod, he filled it and handed it over. “So. How did it go?” He leaned against the counter.

  She enjoyed that first delicious sip. “Nothing like I expected.” Turning, she leaned back beside him. “My mother spent ten minutes telling me about each and every cookie she and Sylvie and her two cousins baked and decorated. They made fudge, divinity and Rice Krispies Treats, too. And they watched Frozen for the gazillionth time.”

  “Because when you’re a little girl, Frozen never gets old.”

  “This is true. Once my mother had described yesterday’s festivities in minute detail, she said she supposed I wouldn’t be able to get over to Seven Pines for breakfast, with the snow. She said it wasn’t a problem. She and the girls and my dad are planning a little sledding on the hill behind the double-wide. And Sylvie and her cousins want to build a family of snowmen—oh, and I should call when I’m on my way over.”

  “So you never even had to say that you weren’t at home?” Did he seem disappointed?

  She couldn’t tell. Probably not. Her lying about the situation was what had bothered him. Wasn’t it? “You’re right. I never had to tell her.” She let her smile show. “But then I just went ahead and did it anyway.”

  He swore low. There was real admiration in the sound. “You didn’t.”

  “Oh, yes I did. I said I was out at your place on the edge of the forest fifteen miles southwest of town and it might take a little longer to clear the driveway here than at my house. And she said, ‘That’s fine, honey. Just call when you’re on your way in.’”

  He sipped from his mug before asking, “And that’s it? That’s all she said?”

  “That’s it.”

  One dark eyebrow lifted. “Kind of a letdown, huh?”

  She set her cup on the counter and turned into him, slipping one knee between his legs so he widened his stance and she could step in even closer. “I do like being with you.”

  “And you have no idea how happy I am about that.”

  She leaned in and sniffed his neck. “I love the way you smell. Like leather and cedar shavings. Sometimes a little like pine.”

  “That would be my cologne.”

  “You’re a generous guy.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And you’re thoughtful.”

  “High praise.”

  “And so very, very sexy...”

  “Keep talking, Ava. I like where this is going.”

  “However...”

  “Uh-oh. All at once I’m not feelin’ the love.”

  “It’s just that I never expected to get ethics lessons from you.”

  He traced a finger down her cheek. “Some have called me shallow. Can you believe that?”

  “No way. You are integrity personified.”

  “That’s me, exactly—and are you in a hurry to get back to town?”

  She leaned fully against him, and it felt so good. “My parents will keep my daughter busy for the whole day. And for once, I have no open houses and no appointments.”

  “So you’ll stay?” His hands drifted down her back as he nuzzled her neck, which she stretched for him with a sigh.

  “I would love to stay.”

  He used his teeth on her earlobe, and she swallowed a moan. “I need to feed the horses. Then I’ll fix us some breakfast.”

  “I think before you do anything, you should kiss me.”

  Those supple lips slid up over her chin and settled right where she wanted them—on hers.

  * * *

  The night before, when he couldn’t sleep, Dare had formulated a plan.

  The plan was to take the high, thick, carefully guarded walls around Ava’s heart and expand them.

  It occurred to him that he’d started working on his plan intuitively, without even admitting to himself that he was doing it—when he flirted with her relentlessly for months. And when he chased her all over Clara’s house at Thanksgiving, determined to discover what she wanted in order that he could be the one to give it to her.

  Next, he’d talked her into telling everyone that they were friends in order that they didn’t have to sneak around so damn much.

  And after last night, when he’d finally accepted that he wanted a lot more from her than a few weeks of great sex, he was now going forward with conscious intent. He couldn’t believe he’d actually convinced her to tell her mother she’d gotten snowed in at his house.

  But he had.

  Little by little, he was breaking her open. And he wouldn’t give up until she let him inside.

  She helped him take care of the horses. After breakfast, they went back to bed. And then to the chair in the corner. And after that, there was a mind-blowing interlude between the two bureaus.

  Followed by some downright amazingness in front of the fire.

  Later, she shoveled snow along the front walk while he spelled Corky on the blower. By two, they’d cleared all the way to the main road—which, by then, had been plowed clear of snow.

  Before she headed back to town late in the afternoon, she’d agreed he could bring pizza to share with her and Sylvie Monday night. She’d also said he could drop in at her house anytime. She didn’t qualify it, either, didn’t remind him that, come January, everything had to stop.

  Best of all, she’d promised to be his date Saturday for the Christmas Ball.

  He took her new willingness to be seen coupled up with him as a good sign. An excellent sign. Things were going well. Better than he’d dared to hope. He would show her in a thousand ways how good they were together.

  Monday, he left work early to help the Blueberries put the finishing touches on the Christmas-project dollhouses. Sylvie was jazzed that he’d be coming for dinner. At Ava’s, after the pizza, he and Sylvie played video games, and she told him all about the school Christmas show coming up Wednesday evening. She would sing in the school choir and play a bear in a skit.

  Once Sylvie went to bed, Ava led him to her room. He stayed until midnight. Before he left, he wrangled an invitation to Sylvie’s Christmas show.

  Wednesday, he picked up Ava and Sylvie at six and drove to the elementary school. They walked Sylvie to her classroom and then continued on to the multipurpose room, where there was a Christmas tree in every corner. Rows of folding chairs had been set up facing the built-in stage at one end of the large space. Quinn and Chloe were already there with Quinn’s longtime friend and former trainer, Manny Aldovino, who was like a grandfather to Annabelle.

  Chloe waved them over and they all sat together. It was going great. Nobody seemed the least surprised to see him there with Ava. Ava’s mom and dad appeared and took seats in the row in front of them. He shook hands with Ava’s dad and said hi to her mom, who was sweet and friendly and bore zero resemblance to the wild-eyed matchmaker Ava had made her out to be.

  Then two of Ava’s brothers showed up—Brad, whose two daughters were still in elementary school, and Tom, whose younger son was in fourth grade. By then, the place was filling up. The brothers and Tom’s wife, Libby, took seats several rows away.

  Yeah, okay, Tom didn’t look all that happy to see Ava sitting next to him. But so what? Ava didn’t seem bothered by her brother’s surly attitude.

  The lights dimmed above them and came up on the stage. Dare took Ava’s hand, and she let him. The program went on for two hours. There was a whole lot of carol-singing. And a long skit called “A Mountain Home Christmas” in which Sylvie pla
yed one of the daughters in a family of bears. Dare loved every minute of it. He could get into being a family man, attending overlong school presentations with Ava at his side.

  Sylvie seemed to glow with excitement on the drive home. She sang snatches from the carols she’d performed and laughed over a gaffe made by one of the boys in her class. At the house, she had a quick bath and then came running downstairs.

  “I need to read Darius his story.” She waved yet another book with a Christmassy cartoon cover.

  Ava chided, “It’s past your bedtime, sweetie.”

  “Mommy, just one story...”

  Ava sighed and gave the go-ahead. They all sat on the couch, and Sylvie began. When she finished that story, she hopped to her feet. “I think we need another one.”

  Ava rose, too. “Not tonight. Bedtime.”

  “Mom! Darius wants another story, don’t you Darius?”

  He’d been hanging around seven-year-olds enough lately to know when he was being worked. “Next time.”

  “Tomorrow?” Sylvie begged. “Please say you’ll come tomorrow...”

  Ava cut in then in a voice as flat as the Serengeti Plain. “Sylvie. Bedtime. I’m not saying it again.”

  Sylvie’s little mouth twisted. But she did get the message. “Oh, all right.” She whirled and flounced toward the stairs.

  “Night, Sylvie,” he called after her.

  She sent him a sweet little pout and a grudging, “Night.”

  “Kids,” Ava said under her breath and went up after her.

  When she came back down, she took his hand and led him to her room.

  “Sylvie okay?” he asked, once the door was shut.

  “She’ll live, though just barely if you ask her. And you’d better not come over tomorrow night. We can’t have her thinking that you’re moving in here.”

  Why not? he wanted to demand. Because moving in together sounded pretty damn good to him. But they weren’t there yet, and pushing her too fast was not the way to get what he wanted from her.

  “Sure. I understand,” he answered mildly. And then he took off all her clothes and took her to bed.