A Winter Wedding(73)
“Sounds like a smart plan. How’d Derrick take the news?”
“He wasn’t happy. Said I was an ungrateful bitch.”
“That should win you back.”
“Yeah, definitely not. But since he’s already angry, do you think I should make it worse by allowing people to get pictures of us that they could easily post on the internet?”
“I don’t see why you should closet yourself away and miss Christmas just because he’s angry. He’s the one who cheated, not you.”
And, if she had her guess, he was seeing more of Crystal instead of less. “I wish I knew why I wasn’t enough.”
“Don’t talk like that. You didn’t deserve what he did. There’s something wrong with him, not you.”
But it was hard not to feel that she must’ve fallen short in some way. “I suppose everyone who’s ever been cheated on feels inadequate.”
“You need to shake that off. And you need to go to Victorian Days.”
“Seeing or hearing about us being together might also provoke Noelle,” she warned. “Have you considered that?”
“There’s no reason to consider it. I won’t let what Noelle may or may not do dictate my actions.”
“So you’re issuing a challenge?”
She saw a flash of white teeth as he smiled. “Are you up for it?”
“Why not?” she replied. The longer she was away from Nashville, the better she felt. She was afraid that had a lot more to do with Kyle than she cared to admit, but she didn’t want to miss the fun of the holidays. She felt a spark, a lessening of the worry and doubt she’d been carrying around for the past few months, and wanted to fan that small spark into a raging fire of confidence, not allow Derrick or Noelle or anyone else to smother it before it could really catch hold.
“Great. I’ll be able to show you the inside of Little Mary’s. Eve always sells the best cookies during Victorian Days. And there’ll be people roasting chestnuts and selling hot cider and handmade gifts.”
“My parents brought me and my sisters when we were young.” She could’ve driven herself once she got older, if she’d stuck around long enough. But she’d been too eager to get to Nashville—and since then she’d cared about little beyond how well her records were selling. So it was ironic that the promise of a small-town Christmas celebration could entice her despite her fear of stirring up gossip on various websites and on social media. None of those outside concerns seemed to matter in this idyllic town. She even began to question why she’d been in such a hurry to get out of Gold Country when she was young. Could she honestly say she’d found something better?
No. She’d enjoyed the fame, mostly because there was joy in knowing other people liked her work. The money had been a blessing, too. But what she’d achieved had come at a high cost in other areas. She seemed to have lost her way at some point and begun writing and performing only to please others instead of making sure it fulfilled her at the same time...
“There’s the ice cream parlor,” Kyle said. “Would you like a cone?”
“No.” She put a hand to her stomach. “I can’t eat another bite. I won’t fit into my dress if I do.”
“I don’t see that as a problem, since you’d look even better out of it.” He spoke as if he was teasing, as if what he’d said was merely a joke. But that kind of joke didn’t fall under the heading of appropriate things to say to a friend. She doubted his mind would ever have gone in that direction, if not for their hug last night. Although it didn’t make much sense, since she was still in love with someone else, she’d wanted to get her hands on Kyle, to touch him. So she’d used a quick good-night embrace as the excuse—and then she’d regretted it. That hug had changed something between them.
“Maybe we’d better go home,” she said, suddenly feigning even more interest in the Christmas lights hanging from almost every building. “We both have work tomorrow.”
Once they got back, he kept his distance. She could tell he was embarrassed by the comment he’d made in the truck. He was probably wondering where that had come from, just as she’d been wondering why that innocuous hug had felt anything but innocuous. They spoke politely, almost formally, and stepped around each other as if they were afraid they might spontaneously combust if they touched.
So she tried to put an end to the awkwardness with another good-night hug—a proper friend hug this time that wouldn’t feel nearly as sexual as last night’s. If they planned to live together for the next three months, they had to force their relationship back inside the boundaries where it was meant to reside.
For the first second, the contact was everything she’d intended. She felt him release her, heard him say good-night. Perfunctory. Matter-of-fact. So she wasn’t sure why she hugged him again, or whether she turned her head or he turned his, but a second later, their mouths came together—warm and wet and questing. And what happened next wasn’t about friendship at all.
20
When the truth of what was happening finally hit Kyle’s brain, he froze. He was about to pull away. He knew better than to kiss Lourdes. They were plastered against each other so tightly she had to be able to feel his erection. But then... This wasn’t entirely his doing. He was pretty sure she was kissing him, and that changed things. He wouldn’t want to be rude, he told himself, wouldn’t want to reject her after what she’d been through.