Jeanette was tempted by the sweetness of his words, the earnestness in his expression, but the risk was flashing neon red right in front of her eyes, too. She’d taken that leap of faith before, too many times. She’d trusted her heart and ignored the facts. She couldn’t do that this time.
“It’s not just about a house, or even a town,” she told him.
“I know that. It’s about you mattering more than anything else,” he said. “And what I’m telling you is that I think you do. There’s only one way we can find out for sure, and that’s time.”
“There are so many obstacles,” she said.
“Name one.”
“Your mother.”
“An annoyance, not an obstacle.” He made a gimme movement with his hand. “What else?”
“You’re a Christmas grouch.”
He laughed at that. “So are you.”
She shook her head. “Not so much. For the first time in years, I’m finally remembering how much I loved Christmas when I was little. I think the tree was the turning point for me. One whiff of that scent, one look at that magnificent tree, and it all came flooding back.”
“Okay, then, if Christmas is that important to you, it’s a couple of weeks of the year. I can fake it.”
“Remind me to use that line on you if we’re ever in bed together,” she said dryly.
Her words seemed to give him pause. But after a moment he went on, “How about this, then? From now through New Year’s we act like a couple. We do the whole holiday thing however you want. We spend time together and with our respective families. We hang out with our friends. I’ll even suck it up and go Christmas caroling if that’s what you want.”
“Now, there’s a noble sacrifice,” she said. “I have to be nice to your mother and you have to sing in public. Where’s the fairness in that?”
“I’ll throw in a lot of ho-ho-ho’s when we kick off the Christmas festival,” he added. “I will be the epitome of good cheer.”
The thought of seeing him trying to stuff his bah-humbug attitude was too tempting to resist. At least that was her excuse for relenting.
“Okay,” she said at last.
His expression brightened. “Can I move in?”
“I don’t remember sex or my guest room being included in the negotiations,” she told him.
“Are you sure? I thought they were implied.”
She gave him a wry look. “You’re a seasoned negotiator. I doubt you leave anything open to interpretation. No sex, no room.”
“You sure you don’t want to amend our verbal contract?”
“One hundred percent sure,” she assured him. “But check back with me from time to time.”
As she took in that appealing grin on his face and the heat in his eyes, something told her it was going to be way too easy for him to change her mind.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The Christmas festival committee gathered in the town hall conference room for its last meeting on the Monday before the event was to kick off on the second Saturday in December. Howard was in his element, as anxious as a child for the time when the tree lights would be turned on, the town square filled with vendors and all of downtown Serenity would be subjected to nonstop holiday music. He was clearly driving Tom nuts with his nitpicking attention to detail.
Listening to him go on and on, Mary Vaughn wondered why she’d ever found her father-in-law so intimidating. He was just an overgrown kid.
“Has anybody checked to see exactly what time it gets dark now?” Howard asked, directing yet another question toward Tom. “This thing needs to be scheduled right down to the second. We want to be sure to throw the switch on the tree and all the other lights right then and not a minute too soon. Maximum effect, that’s the ticket. We want to wow the crowd.”
Before Tom could reply, Howard turned to Mary Vaughn. “Is Rory Sue coming home this weekend? She used to love the lighting of the tree.”
“She says she has to study for her last two finals,” Mary Vaughn told him. “They’re next week. She’ll be home right after that.”
Howard didn’t even try to hide his disappointment. “I suppose there’s no way around that,” he grumbled. “It’s a shame, though. Having her here would have gotten the season off to a good start.”
Mary Vaughn was beginning to have her doubts about whether that was possible. Rory Sue had refused to give up on the ski trip. Every conversation had turned into a battle. None of the plans Mary Vaughn and Sonny had been making seemed to please her. Mary Vaughn was beginning to fear her daughter would stubbornly refuse to have a good time just out of spite.
“That is so lame” was her most frequent comment. Mary Vaughn had heard it so often, she’d had to bite her tongue to keep from ordering Rory Sue to adjust her attitude or else. Or else what? That was what had kept her silent. She could hardly ground her. And if she told her not to bother coming home if she couldn’t be pleasant, Rory Sue would probably whoop with joy and head straight to Colorado with her friend.
As the meeting dragged on, Mary Vaughn sank even deeper into her funk. She’d really wanted this holiday season to be special for her daughter, for her whole family, for that matter. As the weeks had passed and she and Sonny had made their plans for an old-fashioned Christmas filled with nostalgia and tradition, she’d found herself looking forward to recapturing what had once been such a special time for all of them. For the first time in years, they would have a real family celebration. She hadn’t realized until recently how much she’d missed that. Nor had she realized how much she’d missed making plans with Sonny, having someone who actually listened to her ideas and wanted to please her.
She had taken so
