A Cross-Country Christmas(71)
He followed her gaze, then snapped his attention back to her. “I don’t even know those girls.”
She picked up her board and started off.
“At least tell me your name,” he said.
She didn’t respond.
“I’m going to find out,” he said. “Might as well tell me.”
She turned but kept walking backward. “What’s the point? I’m not interested.”
“Boyfriend?” He watched her—a little too intently.
“You think the only reason I might not be interested in you is because I’m taken?”
He shrugged, and the way the sunlight hit him, his bronze skin practically glowed.
One of the bikini girls bounced over and stood next to him, giving Pru a once-over. Prudence raised a brow, as if this was the perfect visual of an alternate reason she might not want to go out with him.
The blonde shimmied up next to his wet body, and Pru gave a mock salute. “See ya later, boss.” She turned to go, but not before she caught the look on his face, one that seemed to have something to say but thought better of it.
And from that day on, she’d carefully kept him in the friend zone.
Things would be completely different if she’d responded to his advances that day.
Who was she kidding? There would be nothing between them if she’d responded differently that day. They might’ve had one or two amazing dates, but Hayes would’ve ended things the same way he did with every girl he dated. He seemed to find it impossible to get serious about any of them. She’d always said he’d left a trail of broken hearts all over the world.
At least hers wasn’t one of them.
And at least now she could claim him as a friend. A good friend, in fact. The kind of friend who kissed her hello and made her feel like she wasn’t alone. The kind of friend with a family who changed their holiday plans to support something as silly as her artwork.
Not that custom surfboards were a traditional canvas.
Regardless, she needed that. It wasn’t like she had a family of her own.
She drew in a deep breath now, not at all aware of his woodsy scent that had filled the SUV.
“So, we’ll do Thanksgiving dinner with my family, then the tree lighting and caroling downtown the day after. Then, didn’t you say there’s a party or something to kick off the Stroll and crown you the queen of the Festival of Trees this year?”
She groaned. “You do not have to do all of that. And I’m not the queen of anything. I’m just the artist who designed the 20-foot talking tree.”
“Oh, is that all?” She didn’t miss the sarcasm in his voice.
She could feel his eyes on her. She gripped the steering wheel and tried not to wonder how she looked from the side.
“Did you not hear me when I said this week is all about you? Don’t pretend this isn’t a big deal.”
She braked at a stop sign and glanced over at him, which, it turned out, was a surefire way to lose her breath. His eyes looked older now, but they still glowed, and while he didn’t talk about it, she suspected he’d suffered heartbreak too, though maybe not when it came to women. He wasn’t serious enough about any of them to ever let himself get hurt.
Still, there were a lot of ways for a heart to break, and despite his image, she knew there was a depth to him that he hardly ever showed to anyone. And where there was depth, there was pain—and he’d seen too much in his travels to be exempt.
They were like two shattered pieces of glass, and she had to wonder if their pieces would ever fit together.
“Well, thank you for that,” she said. “It means a lot to me.”
He squeezed her hand, that familiar, mischievous smile playing at the corners of his lips. “You know I’d do anything for you, Pru.”
A friendly honk from behind kept her from lingering there, and she stepped on the gas, begging herself to stay as calm and cool as she needed to be if she was going to keep up this charade.
And she must. Because if she lost Hayes, she would be hopelessly, horribly, utterly alone.
And that wasn’t something she was willing to risk.