private person that telling Lilah any of what he’d shared would feel like a betrayal. And as far as their making love…For now, that was hers alone, inviolable and not open for discussion.
Arianne slid her purse strap onto her shoulder. “I’m good to go.”
Gabe walked them to the door, making no move to touch her but smiling into her eyes when he said, “I’m sure I’ll be talking to you soon.”
“Count on it.” And then, since Lilah had already seen them kissing anyway and Arianne had never been good at denying her impulses, she stretched up-relieved he met her halfway-and kissed him quickly across the lips.
Lilah didn’t say anything until she’d started the car. “Tanner wanted to come pick you up, but I vetoed him. I figured you wouldn’t want to deal with the whole macho, overprotective brother vibe and his giving Gabe the stink- eye.”
“Good call.”
“But don’t be surprised when we have dinner with the family tonight. They’re going to ask questions.”
Arianne smirked, deducing that this oh-so-considerate warning was just a way of Lilah leading into her own inquiries. “Let ’em ask. I love my family, and it’s perfectly normal for them to have an interest in my life. Of course, they’ll also have to understand that I’m a grown woman who doesn’t have to answer to anyone else.”
Lilah snorted. “Yeah, try that with your brothers and dad and see how well it goes over.”
Playing with the hem of her T-shirt, Arianne asked, “Do you think they’ll like him? Dad and Dave and Tanner? It was different for you and Rachel coming into the family. Mom and I were thrilled not to be outnumbered anymore and we’re not quite as…tribal as the guys. They close ranks sometimes without even meaning to.”
Gabe had endured enough of that already. If Arianne was successful in winning him over, the Waides were going to welcome him into the clan with open arms, damn it.
“They just want what’s best for you,” Lilah said. “Same as you do for them. I can’t promise they won’t threaten to beat his ass if he ever hurts you, but if you’re happy, they’ll accept him. Does he make you happy?”
Arianne thought about the acrid tang of rejection she experienced whenever he found a reason to walk away from her. It wasn’t promising that he’d had thirty years’ practice in numbing himself to his emotions and almost no practice with healthy, loving relationships.
“Not yet.” She bit her lip, looking out the window. “But he will.”
Chapter Twelve
The next committee meeting for the festival was Tuesday night at town hall and would precede the monthly open town meeting that many of the volunteers were planning to attend anyway. When Arianne had called Gabe yesterday to check on how he was feeling, he’d told her that he probably wouldn’t make it.
“I don’t need to be there for the discussion,” he’d said. “I’m just the hired muscle.”
“Yes,” she’d agreed solemnly. “We only want you for your pirate ship. And your booty.”
He didn’t immediately respond, but she heard the laugh he tried to smother. Then he explained that, with Nick’s and Jack’s help, actual construction of the pieces was done, but Gabe thought his time was better spent sanding and painting than sitting in the town hall.
Which suited her nefarious purposes just fine, she realized now as the mayor called the town meeting to order. An idea was beginning to take shape in her mind. The agenda was posted on the whiteboard behind the mayor’s head and included some of their town’s annual traditions, like the Winter Wonderland ball. And Mistletoe’s Man of the Year, someone they voted for in early November and who was given the honor of leading the Thanksgiving parade.
With half an ear, Arianne listened to Pat Donavan talk about suggested changes to how the town’s intramural sports were run, followed by Stanley Dean outlining the budget for a town beautification project and Belle Fulton’s report from the chamber of commerce. Finally they moved to the next to last item: Mistletoe Man of the Year. Anticipation had Arianne fidgeting in her seat so much that Quinn shot her a quizzical look.
“As you all know, we took preliminary nominations for the Man of the Year at last month’s meetings. Those included our new high school coach Dylan Echols-”
This elicited a loud, admiring whistle from Chloe Malcolm, Dylan’s fiancee, and friendly laughter from everyone seated around her.
The mayor raised a brow. “May I continue? We also have local fireman Nick Zeth, two-time former Man of the Year, David Waide, and Petey Gruebner, nominated again this year by Petey Gruebner,” the mayor concluded with an aggrieved sigh.
At this, Petey nudged his wife, who’d been busily knitting and not paying much attention to the proceedings. She clapped politely before returning to what looked like a scarf big enough to keep a giraffe’s neck warm.
“At this time,” the mayor said, “I’ll open the floor for any final nominations to consider before we vote at the November meeting in a few weeks.”
Arianne shot to her feet. Next to her Quinn groaned, “She isn’t.”
Lilah laughed in the row behind them. “She
“Mr. Mayor, I nominate Gabriel Sloan.”
“Is that your idea of a joke, Ms. Waide?” An outraged masculine voice boomed from the back of the room.
Dreading what she was about to see, Arianne turned. Oh, God, she hadn’t even considered this possibility when she’d devised her spontaneous plan thirty minutes earlier. Because she’d been here so early, she was seated close to the front and had been chatting with other people on the festival committee right up until the time the mayor had called order. Arianne hadn’t seen Earline and Robert Ortz, Shay Templeton’s parents, come in and take seats near the door.
Robert was on his feet, his face nearly purple beneath his snow-white hair. His wife, still seated, was squeezing his hand.
Whatever Arianne thought privately about Shay and the mistakes she’d made, she wouldn’t wish losing a child on any parent. She tried to sound respectful even as she said firmly, “No, sir, I was serious.”
“That boy was the reason my baby girl was killed!”
The “boy” had been a victim, too, albeit in a less dramatic and permanent way than Shay, and was now a man. “With all due apologies for your loss, that was fourteen years ago, and Gabe wasn’t even in the house when it happened. None of us really knows what happened. How long should he be punished for a perceived crime?”
People were squirming and whispering, shooting sympathetic glances at the Ortz family, collectively uncomfortable with the direction the meeting had taken. Cici Hunaker was openly smirking, one primly dressed woman in the front row looked ready to hyperventilate.
He was good to the town’s senior citizens, donated his time on behalf of the elementary children in this town, had even risked the high-stress potential of teaching a teen to drive. Arianne had wanted to refocus everyone on those qualities, not dredge up the ancient past. But she found herself tongue-tied in the glare of Robert Ortz, not wanting to say anything that sounded as if she were dismissing his loss.
The mayor banged his gavel on the podium. “Robert, why don’t you take your seat?” he asked gently. “Can we get you anything? A glass of water? Earline? Now, Ms. Waide, continue with your nomination, but keep it short. We, er, have other business to discuss.”
The only thing left on the agenda was the Winter Wonderland, annually held at the Mistletoe Inn, and Arianne knew that wasn’t the real reason the mayor wanted her to wrap up with haste.
She took a deep breath and tried again. “I don’t deny that Gabe may have made some mistakes in his past. I wager everyone in this room has made mistakes. But he’s part of Mistletoe, quietly helping us when we need him.”
“Hear, hear!” Fawne Harris said.
Arianne darted her a grateful glance. “I think the other nominees are wonderful men, but come on, my brother
