Chapter Fifteen
Michael turned off the main street and parked the SUV in the elementary school’s lot. They had spent more time than he had expected on the road this morning.
After breakfast, he’d become the chauffer while Amber had acted as hostess and tour guide to his brothers. It was as if the Amber he knew was gone, as if the jacket she wore that turned her eyes so blue had become a uniform. She had given the guys an idea of the town’s layout, shown them the most popular tourist attractions, and pointed out the stores and restaurants on Icicle Lane.
As he climbed out of the SUV, he silently acknowledged she had given him an education, too. Despite her businesslike manner, with every word she’d spoken, he had heard the pride in her voice and seen it in her expressions. She loved this town.
He wished he had something in his life he loved even half as much. He wished she—
“Last man to the top of the heap wins,” Derek said suddenly, shoving past him and heading toward a pile of snow that had been plowed into one corner of the parking lot.
The other boys, always up to a challenge, hurried after Derek.
Amber was taking a twine-wrapped box out of the back of the SUV. When they had dropped Penny off at Amber’s parents’ house, Mrs. Barnett had given her a box of homemade sweet rolls to take to the school with them. The scent of cinnamon had filled the vehicle. So had the sound of Derek’s voice as he talked nonstop trying to impress Amber.
Michael had clamped his jaws tight to keep his mouth shut.
Too bad he hadn’t done that in the kitchen with Amber earlier.
She rounded the front end of the SUV. In the sunlight, her eyes sparkled and her hair shone.
She was hot. She was beautiful. He hadn’t lied.
But he’d been a real jerk during the rest of the conversation.
He ran his hand through his hair. “Amber, this morning I shouldn’t have let loose with some of the things I said to you. Or at least, I should have found a better way to say them.”
“But you still should have said them, is that what you mean?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. The general message stands. I’m not cut out for having a family. And now you’ve seen part of the reason for that yourself.”
They both stood watching his brothers. Across the lot, Derek had made a snowball. Now, he lobbed it toward Raymond, who ducked. The snowball struck one of the school windows with a jarring thunk.
“Hey, watch it!” Michael yelled. “Or are you planning to pay for your own damages this time around?”
“Got you for that, bro,” Derek called back, laughing.
Raymond and Lee jumped down from the mound of snow and headed toward the SUV.
“They’re just boys,” Amber murmured.
“They’re men,” he said harshly. “At least Derek’s supposed to be. The other two are younger. I’ll give them some slack. But even they don’t act the way they should, thanks to Derek and his brothers. You don’t see Josh and Drew pulling stunts like that, do you? They have more sense.”
“Maybe if you’d all spent more time together as they got older, Derek and the rest of them might have turned out differently.”
“You’re saying I’m at fault.”
“Not even close. I know you’ve been living away from home for a while now. I’m just saying it’s too bad that while you were there you didn’t have the chance to get closer. But I’m sure you’ve had more of a good influence on them than you think. I know you would have tried.” She paused, then added, “What was that about Derek paying for damages?”
“Something else I shouldn’t have said.”
She hesitated, as if she planned to push the issue. But Raymond and Lee ran up to them, and she turned to smile at his brothers.
He wished she had sent that smile in his direction first.
…
By late morning, they finished transferring all the donated items to the community center.
As much as she could, Amber had kept her eye on Michael’s brothers. Easy enough with Derek. He never left the room, just wandered around checking out the prizes. Raymond and Lee helped her brothers and some of the teachers carry boxes into the center.
With Michael, she had tried to do just the opposite—not pay attention to what he was doing. At that job, she failed. He and another group of teachers set up tables in the large main room. Watching him work all those muscles of his was a sight too good to miss.
Seeing him headed her way wasn’t bad, either. Quickly, she turned to the job that was supposed to hold her attention, hanging a display of snowflakes on a tabletop-sized Christmas tree. And she did love the snowflakes. Each one was prettier than the one before.
Michael stopped beside her. “Think anybody’s going to bid on these? They’re too much of a good thing, aren’t they? The tourists have an entire town filled with ornaments for sale.”
“People who live here normally outbid the tourists for these. They’re special. You remember Mrs. Anderson?”
“Of course. I never forget any woman who calls me handsome—”
“Oh, please.”
“—or who thinks I’ll make a great Snow Ball King.”
“Well…she might’ve gotten that part right. Anyway, Mrs. Anderson made these ornaments. She’s ninety-seven and the valley’s oldest resident. And she’s made snowflakes for the festival since she was six years old.”
He whistled. “Now, that’s a tradition.”
“It sure is. She crochets them and sprinkles them with glitter, then adds enough spray starch to make sure the glitter never falls off. When I was little, I always thought the sparkles were the elf equivalent of magic dust.”
“I’m betting you still think that.” He traced the edge of a snowflake with his fingertip, in the same gentle way he’d touched her face. “Christmas is over, and you’re still managing to get your fill of it, aren’t you?” She listened but couldn’t find any hint of judgment in his tone.
“I’ll never get my fill,” she said truthfully.
A few feet from them, Callie turned, surveying the room. “Not bad,” she said with satisfaction. “We should bring in quite a bit of money for the school.”
“Looks like you made a real killing,” Derek said. “You oughta hire me to keep the loot safe while everybody’s out having fun.”
Amber smiled. It sounded like he was trying to make up for the clowning around he had done this morning. She hoped Michael would take note.
Callie smiled, too. “Thanks for the offer, but we’ll lock up as we leave. I think we’ll be okay.” She turned to the crowd. “All right, gang, according to my watch, it’s almost lunchtime. I think you all deserve some time off. But first, can you two give me a hand?” She gestured toward the empty boxes piled in one corner of the room.
She had asked Josh and Drew, but Amber noticed Raymond and Lee followed.
Michael watched them for a moment before turning back to her. The smile he gave her lit his dark eyes, his face…and a special place in her heart.
That smile also left the rest of her heart aching.
Everything he had told her about his past proved he had given up on the idea of a happy future. She understood that. Not so long ago, she had felt the same. But only for a very brief time, because she’d had a baby on the way. A baby she had already loved. She’d had a family she loved and who loved her, too.
He seemed so alone.
If only she could go back to being a little girl who believed in magic elf dust. If only she had some of that special dust now.
Somehow, she had to make Michael believe in the magic of Snowflake Valley.
And before his visit here ended, she needed to make him believe in family.
…
For the second time in two days, Michael sat on a bench at the rink.
After a skating pageant put on by the school district, the town had held open competitions. Amber dared him to enter the speed-skating event. He’d signed up for it and walked away with a “silver medal.”
The foil-covered cardboard medallion dangled from a red ribbon hung around his neck. It entitled the bearer to two desserts at the Candy Cane. He knew who would share those with him.
He sat listening to Amber charm his brothers. Well, the two youngest ones. Halfway through the pageant, Derek had wandered off on his own somewhere.
“You’ve never eaten roasted chestnuts?” she asked in exaggerated amazement.
“Go easy on them,” Josh said. “These city boys can’t help it they’ve been deprived.”
“I’ll give you deprived,” Raymond said.
Michael tensed.
“And I’ll give you guys half my chestnuts,” Drew told Raymond. “But only if you’ll take that chip off your shoulder.”
“What chip?” Raymond demanded, but he grinned as he said it. He yanked Drew’s ski cap off his head, then held it out to him. “Fill ’er up.”
“Very funny.” Laughing, Drew replaced his cap. “Let’s go.”
The boys headed toward the row of concession stands. Near the stands, the chestnut vendor stood with his wheeled cart.
Finished changing into his boots, Michael took Amber’s hand. They followed the boys. The air around the cart was hazy from the heat and smelled like the roasted nuts.
“Have you been deprived, too?” she asked as they joined the line behind their brothers.
“No,” he said. “I’ve eaten plenty of roasted chestnuts.”
“Then you know how good they are. I’ll share mine with you.”
“I’ll pass, thanks. You might not want to spoil your appetite, either.”
“What do you mean?”
He transferred the medallion from his neck to hers. “I’m officially inviting you to share my dessert. After all, if not for you, I wouldn’t have entered the race. You dared me. And you knew I couldn’t pass that up.” Her flushed cheeks told him she also knew exactly what he meant—though a reminder wouldn’t hurt. So he kissed her…just the way he had after their snowball fight.
“Your lips are cold.” He wrapped his arms around her and brushed her mouth with his, planning only to torment her for a moment. But her tongue met his in an all-too-teasing touch that shook him from head to toe and stunned a few vital places in between. Talk about torment. He pressed his mouth against hers again, and darned if even the quick kiss she allowed him this time wasn’t just as earthshattering. He eased back to meet her gaze. “Now that’s more like it. You’re getting warmed up. Why don’t we see—”
“Michael…”
“That’s me,” he said, keeping his voice low, “the man with the right to kiss you. We’re out in a crowd now, aren’t we?” But that didn’t matter. They could have been alone, and still, he’d have wanted exactly what he’d just gotten—and more.
“You won that contest on your own,” she said.
No surprise she’d gone back to the issue at hand. And definitely no surprise at what she’d said. It always made her uncomfortable to take credit for anything. He thought again about how often she praised her family…something he’d never felt a reason to do with his.
As if she’d read his thought, she said, “You should share the wealth with your brothers.”
“Believe me, I do.” He regretted his irritated tone as soon as the words left his mouth. Amber frowned, and he had only himself to blame. Too late to take the words back. But, he hoped, not too late to keep from spoiling their afternoon. He looked down at the medallion lying against her jacket, then back at her. “I want to share this with you.”
She ran her finger along the ribbon. “Thanks. In that case we should step out of line. I’ll pass on the chestnuts, too.”
They moved over to wait by the wooden building. As she leaned back against the outer wall, he moved to stand in front of her. His body cast a shadow over her face but did nothing to dim the light in her eyes.
“I need to save my appetite for Anatole’s desserts,” she said. “Besides, we still have hot dogs and toasted marshmallows ahead of us at the Christmas campfire tonight.”
“Really? I could get used to this.”
“It would be easy to do,” she whispered, her voice soft, drawing him to her.
Lots of things would be easy for him to do right now. Run his fingers through her hair. Cup her cheek with his palm. Kiss her lips again. Right now. Right here. He wanted all those things, all at once. He wanted an entire list of things he couldn’t have.
He reached for the foil disk and hefted it in his hand, as if it had the weight of a real medallion.
She glanced down. “You look like you’re about to toss a coin.”
“Maybe I am. Heads, I win. Tails, I win, too. Because when it comes to you, how could anyone lose?”
Her eyes shimmered.
He hesitated, then went on. “What you said this morning—about not being good enough for anyone. That wasn’t true. The guy who left you…you picked the wrong man, that’s all.”
“And the right one?”
As always, from the day he’d met her, he could read her expressions. He could see her emotions in her eyes. Her face was so open. So sincere. So Amber.
Now, he knew what she was asking. And he didn’t have the right answer. But he’d started this and he had to finish it and he had to tell her the truth.
He shook his head. “Not me, sweetheart. No matter how much I’d want to, I could never be the right man for you.”