The Trouble with Mistletoe Read online

  “You okay?” she asked quietly.

  Was he? He had no idea, not that he was about to admit it. “Yeah.” He thought maybe he could see some pity in her gaze and he pretty much hated everything about that so he gave a vague wave at the place around him. “I’ve really got to get to work.”

  She nodded, but didn’t move. Instead she clasped her hands tight together and held his gaze. “I wanted to explain my abrupt departure this morning. It’s just that when I woke up wrapped around you like one of those amazingly delicious warm pretzels at AT&T Park, I . . .”

  “Panicked?”

  “No,” she said. “Well, okay, yes, but only for a few minutes. I don’t regret last night, Keane. I just wanted you to know that. I’m sorry—”

  “Willa, stop,” he said, interrupting her. Both this morning with her on top of the visit with his mom had left him feeling a little hollow and far too raw to deal with any more heavy emotions. “Forget it, okay? It was nothing.”

  She looked a little stunned at that and it took him a second to realize she thought he was saying what they’d shared was nothing. “Not what I meant,” he said, but since he didn’t know what he did mean, he fell silent.

  She nodded like she knew though, which he was glad about. Someone should know what the fuck was going on here. His tool belt was lying on one of the sawhorses and he put it on, hopefully signaling he was good with no further conversation.

  She took a deep breath. “If this is about me hearing that conversation with your mom—”

  “It’s not.”

  “Because it’s not your fault how she treats you,” she said.

  “Yes, it is. I was a rotten kid, Willa. I was,” he said firmly when she opened her mouth. “I get that some of it was because I didn’t get a lot of positive attention, but that’s no excuse.”

  She was arms crossed now, defensive for him, clearly not willing to believe the worst of him, all of which did something painful and also a little wonderful inside his chest.

  “What could you possibly have done that was so bad?”

  “For one, I was a complete shit. Even after I graduated high school. They gave me tuition money to complement a partial football scholarship for two years, until I got injured and blew the scholarship. I hated every second of school, by the way. So when they gave me tuition for year three, I quit and used the money for the down payment for my first renovation project.”

  “I take it they didn’t approve.”

  “I didn’t tell them for several years,” he admitted.

  Her eyes widened.

  “See?” he asked. “A complete shit. I paid them back with interest, but the point is that as a result of my own actions, they don’t trust me very much.”

  “Not everyone is made for the academic life.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t make excuses for me, Willa.”

  “Well someone has to give you a break,” she said, tossing up her hands. “You’ve worked pretty hard to help your aunt and your family. You’ve worked hard to make something of yourself and—” She broke off and looked at him as if she’d never seen him before.

  “What?”

  “Oh my God,” she whispered. “I just realized something. I accused you of not being able to attach. But clearly you can, and deeply.”

  He started to shake his head but stopped because given his growing attachment to her, not to mention some extraordinarily deep emotions on the same subject, she was right.

  “And not only can you obviously love and love deeply,” she said slowly, putting a hand to her chest like it hurt. “You can even hold on to it. Maybe even better than me. Hell, definitely better than me.”

  His chest got tight at the thought of her believing that about herself. “Willa—”

  “I know, right? Not a super comfortable feeling.” She paused when from inside his pocket, his phone went off.

  It’d been doing so for the past half hour. Subcontractors, clients . . . probably Sass as well. And even as he thought it, a well-dressed couple parked out front.

  Clients with whom he had a meeting with in . . . he looked at his watch. Shit. Right now.

  “The real world calls,” Willa said and took a step back.

  “This is my real world,” he said. “They can wait.”

  “Keane,” Marco Delgado, a longtime client, called out with a smile. “Good to see you, my man.”

  “It’s okay,” Willa said as she moved farther away.

  Kind of the story of his life really.

  “You understood this morning when I needed to get to work,” she said, “and I understand this.”

  And then she was gone.

  Shit. Whelp, he was happy to know she understood. He just wished he knew exactly what she understood and if she would explain it to him.

  Chapter 23

  #SquadGoals

  Willa went to the shop. The shop had always been her escape, her joy, her first and only love.

  But as she walked in with all the Christmas lights sparkling and a customer’s dog barking at her stuffed Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer sitting on the kitty-litter display, and Rory smiling and handling customers from two different corners of the place, she didn’t feel the usual calm wash over her.

  She hadn’t felt calm since she’d woken up that morning but especially not after overhearing the conversation between Keane and his mom. Because now she knew an uncomfortable truth about herself. She’d been cruising along with Keane, secure in the knowledge that he wasn’t interested in love, but there was a fatal flaw with that.

  It was all on her. She was the one with the issues.

  She hadn’t seen that coming.

  Luckily her day was long, not allowing her much time to think or dwell. And at the end of it, she looked around for more to do but there wasn’t anything. And yet she didn’t want to go home. Going home alone would remind her that she was . . .

  Well, alone.

  So she went to the pub, where Finn immediately caught her eye and gestured her over. “Try this,” he said, handing her a mug. “Homemade whipped cream over the best, most amazing hot chocolate ever invented.”

  “How many ways are there to make hot chocolate?”

  “Only one way,” he said. “My way.” He gestured to the mug. “It’s a new recipe, a surprise for Pru. Tell me what you think.”

  She sipped and he was right. It was the most amazing hot chocolate ever invented. “Oh my God.”

  He smiled. “Yeah?”

  “Oh yeah. It’s orgasmic.”

  He grimaced and took the mug away from her. “Not in my pub.”

  She could see Spence and Archer in the back arguing over the darts and knew she could go back there and join them. Knew too that Finn would make her his famous chicken wings if she wanted. But for the first time in as long as she could remember, she didn’t want to be here either.

  Finn’s smile vanished. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Willa.” He leaned in. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. I know you better than just about anyone. Something’s wrong.” He studied her a minute. “Is it Keane? Do I need to beat the shit out of him?”

  She choked out a laugh. “You think you could?”

  “No, but I could get Archer to do it. Archer could make him disappear and no one’d ever be the wiser. Just say the word.”

  “No!” She laughed again, but it faded fast. “No,” she repeated firmly and shook her head. “This one’s on me.”

  “Fine. We’ll help you bury the body. Just name the time and place.”

  “You’re not even going to ask me why?”

  “I don’t need to know why.”

  That was the thing about Finn, and the others as well. They loved her like family should. Unconditionally. Without question. No doubt. No hesitation.

  No qualifiers.

  And even though Finn was just teasing, she knew if she ever needed something, anything at all, he’d be there for her.

  Always.