Читать книгу Holding Out for Christmas - Janet Dailey - Страница 10

Chapter 4

Sitting next to Megan at dinner, Conner studied her delicate profile. His gaze traced the soft petal curve of her lips, her pert nose, and the fringe of eyelashes that cast shadows on her cheeks. He’d thought she was cute from the first time he saw her. But now, he realized that she was more than cute. She was beautiful. And it wasn’t just her looks that appealed to him. It was something else—an inner spark that lit her face and her voice when she spoke of things she cared about, such as her family and her young students.

He was liking her even more than he’d planned. But something, he sensed, was wrong.

Megan appeared to be having a good time with his friends, laughing at their jokes, complimenting Maggie on the meal, smiling at everyone around the table—even him. But the smiles she gave him were only with her lips. Her eyes held a glint of cold steel—almost as if he’d somehow become the enemy.

What had changed? Had she heard something from Maggie and Tracy behind that closed kitchen door—a bit of gossip, an unfounded rumor—that had raised her defenses? He’d been honest about the women he’d dated. She’d seemed fine with that. And it wasn’t as if he were hiding a scandalous secret. His life was an open book—all she had to do was google him online, something he would bet she’d already done.

But he wasn’t imagining things. Megan’s manner toward him showed signs of strain. And he liked her too much to shrug and walk away. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he found out what was troubling her.

* * *

“You mentioned that you were in town last Christmas, Megan.” It was Rush who’d asked the question. “Did you make it to the Cowboy Christmas Ball? I don’t recall seeing you there.”

“No, I was . . . busy.” It was a half-truth; Lacy had been the one at the ball. Megan should have anticipated the question, but it had caught her off guard. To make it through the evening without revealing her secret, she would have to come up with some creative answers. She could only hope that her new friends would back her up.

“But you’re going this year, aren’t you?” Travis asked. “It’s the biggest event of the year. The whole town shows up. Great western food, costumes, and dancing. And it’s not like you need a date. You just go and have fun.”

“I’m afraid I have other plans.” Megan sipped a glass of the wine she’d brought. “Sorry, it does sound like a good time. I’m sure my brother, Daniel, will be there. He loves to go and dance with Katy. Her parents will pick him up and take them.”

“What about your parents, Megan?” Tracy asked, deftly changing the subject. “You mentioned that your mother is in a wheelchair. But surely she’d enjoy getting out. And she’s an artist. And people—including me—would enjoy meeting her.”

“My parents tend to keep to themselves,” Megan said. “But, yes, I think they might enjoy it. I’ll do my best to encourage them.”

Conner had been uncharacteristically silent. Megan could just imagine what he was thinking. He wanted to be free to hit on Lacy, if and when she showed up. Right now, he was probably squirming at the thought that Megan expected to be invited as his date.

If only she hadn’t promised her friends—the Badger Hollow Boys—that Lacy would sing with their band. If she hadn’t made that commitment, she would have been free to enjoy the ball as herself or simply stay home. And Conner’s hopes of seeing his dream woman would’ve been for nothing.

She gave her head a mental shake. She’d read Shakespearean plays that were less complicated than this mess. It was a true Comedy of Errors.

“Well, I’m sorry to miss the fun,” she said. “But I really do have plans. Here’s hoping you all have a great time at the ball.”

“Maybe that singer will come with the band again.” Rush helped himself to another slice of pot roast. “She wasn’t bad. Maybe not Grand Ole Opry material, but I think everybody enjoyed her.”

Megan winced as the truth stabbed home. Deep down, she’d always feared that she might not have what it took to succeed—not even as Lacy. In the dog-eat-dog world of show business, it took grit, determination, and luck to make it big. But most of all, it took talent. If the talent wasn’t there, all the hard work in the world wouldn’t be enough.

She blinked back the tears that sprang to her eyes, hoping no one would notice. Rush’s innocent remark had given voice to her worst fear—that she just wasn’t good enough.

But that didn’t mean she was ready to give up. She had to believe in herself. She had to keep chasing her dream until there was no dream left to chase.

Maggie and Tracy were exchanging glances—knowing looks that spoke a clear message. “I thought she was wonderful,” Maggie said. “The way she held the crowd’s attention, and made it fun for everybody, was great. And she had a beautiful voice.” She rose from her chair. “Now, who’s ready for dessert? Apple pie with ice cream, if you’ve got room for it.”

“I’ll help you serve.” Megan stood, almost too hastily, and followed Maggie into the kitchen.

“Thanks,” she said as the door swung shut behind them. “Things were getting awkward in there.”

“Well, just so you know, I meant every word I said about your performance. I thought you did great.”

“You’re very kind,” Megan said. “And thank you for keeping my secret.”

“The ice cream’s in the freezer. You can scoop it out.” Maggie cut the pie into six wedges and began lifting them carefully onto saucers. Megan dug out a scoop of vanilla for each piece. “You know,” Maggie said, “it might be simpler to just tell Conner the truth. He’s a good guy, and I can tell he likes you. He’ll deal with it.”

“Deal with it how?” Megan finished scooping and put the ice-cream carton back into the freezer. “You know that Lacy isn’t real. But she’s like having this glamorous girl buddy who always steals your boyfriends. If Conner knew I was Lacy, he would want me to be Lacy. And that would ruin everything.”

“I understand your point.” Maggie picked up three of the saucers, leaving the rest for Megan. “But how long can you keep him from knowing the truth? No man likes to be made a fool of. If Conner sees Lacy at the ball and realizes he’s been played, he’s not going to take it well.”

Megan picked up the remaining saucers and followed Maggie back into the dining room. Her new friend was right. Conner was a proud man. The longer she kept her secret from him, the more upset he was likely to be when he discovered the truth.

But letting Lacy into the picture would ruin her friendship with a man she was liking far more than she’d planned. Conner was smart, funny, gentle, and sexy enough to make her pulse race every time he touched her. But he’d already fallen for Lacy. And Megan had learned the hard way that she couldn’t compete with her glamorous alter ego.

So, what should she do now?

Walk away, that was the sensible answer. She would end things with Conner before they got any more complicated. At the Christmas Ball, she could perform as Lacy and disappear before Conner had a chance to get close and recognize her. Her friends in the band would help her make a clean getaway. No ugly questions, no lies, and no regrets—except for never knowing what might have been.

* * *

The evening ended early, with the understanding that the three partners would need to be up before dawn. As Megan said her good nights to Maggie and Tracy, she felt the pang of impending loss. Breaking off with Conner would mean losing these two delightful women as her friends. But some things couldn’t be helped, she reminded herself as Conner lent his arm to balance her on the icy sidewalk.

She wasn’t looking forward to the ride home. Conner, she sensed, was more accustomed to rejecting women than being rejected. Maybe he’d be angry. Or worse, maybe he wouldn’t even care. Either way would be painful—but like pulling out a splinter or setting a broken bone, it had to be done.

As he helped her into his Jeep and went around to the driver’s side, Megan rehearsed her farewell speech.

It’s like this, Conner. I’ve got a lot going on in my life, and . . . No, that sounds like a lame excuse.

I’ve got this boyfriend in Nashville—we’re practically engaged, so I’m afraid this will have to be good-bye . . .

That might work, even if it was only a half-truth. She wasn’t engaged to Derek—not even practically. But the little white lie might at least help her out of an awkward spot.

“What did I tell you about those ladies?” Conner flashed her a grin as he started the vehicle. “I’d say you’ve got yourself two new friends. You’ll like them even more as you get to know them.”

“They were very nice,” Megan said. “But I won’t be around long enough to get to know them. I have a job in Nashville—and a life.”

That was a good beginning, Megan thought. All Conner needed to do now was ask her about her life in Nashville. From there, she could steer the conversation to her alleged reason for not seeing him again.

But Conner, it seemed, wasn’t about to make that easy for her. “I’m still puzzling about one thing,” he said, changing the subject. “That powwow in the kitchen, the three of you with the door closed. What was that all about?”

“Girl talk. If we’d wanted you to know, we wouldn’t have closed the door.”

“Understood.” Conner drove in silence for a couple of blocks, then spoke again. “But when you came out, I could tell that something was bothering you—and I had a feeling that it might be me.”

“You were imagining things. Everything was—is—fine.” Megan stumbled through her fudged reply. She hadn’t expected him to be so intuitive, or so direct.

“Is it?” he asked. “If you’ll pardon the metaphor, I’m a man who believes in ‘taking the bull by the horns.’ If you heard something about me in that kitchen, I’d like an equal chance to explain myself.”

Megan sighed. She was cornered. There was only one way out—tell the truth. But she wasn’t about to tell him everything.

“It doesn’t matter, not really,” she said. “After all, we agreed to be just friends and have a good time.”

“So tell me, Megan,” he said.

“All right.” She shifted in the seat, turning slightly to face him. “I was told that you’d fallen head over heels for that singer at the Christmas Ball, and you were stacking all your hopes on the chance that she’d show up again, so you could meet her.”

“Oh,” he said.

“Not that I care. I don’t own you, Conner. If you’ve fallen for another woman, that’s none of my business. It’s just that . . .” She groped for the right words.

“ ‘Just that,’ what?” He turned onto Main Street. Twinkling Christmas lights shed glowing colors through the windshield.

“Just that it’s so . . . so stupid! You don’t even know her. Just because she’s pretty and can sing, that doesn’t mean she’s a nice person.”

“You sound as if you know something I don’t. You’re from Nashville. Do you know her?”

Megan winced. The question had hit close to home. “I know the type, that’s all,” she said. “Some women will do anything to get ahead in the business, even pretend to be someone they’re not. And they don’t care who they hurt. Sorry, I don’t mean to be judgmental. It’s just that you’re a nice guy. I don’t want to see you get your heart broken.”

“Thanks for your concern. I mean it.” He swung the Jeep around the corner, onto a narrow, unlit side street. “But it’s my heart. It’s been broken and mended before. And if it happens again, at least I’ll be able to say that I took a chance.”

And that’s the reason why I don’t want to see you again. Megan was about to speak the words, when he pulled over to the curb and turned to face her.

“I believe in taking chances,” he said. “I took a chance every time I climbed onto a bucking bull. Taking chances got me to a championship. It also got me damn near killed. That’s the luck of the draw. And it’s the same with relationships. Sometimes you get hurt. Once in a while, you win the grand prize. But if you’re too scared to take a chance, nothing happens.”

He reached for her across the seats, his fingertips brushing her cheek, his thumb gently lifting her chin. “Take a chance, Megan,” he said. “Climb onto this crazy ride and see where it takes us.”

He kissed her, his lips closing on hers with an easy sureness that quickened her pulse and sent whorls of pleasure cartwheeling through her body. She could have pulled away, but something about the gently teasing pressure of his mouth stirred longings so intense that she didn’t want them to end. She closed her eyes. A moan stirred in her throat as he nuzzled her lips, caressing, tantalizing . . .

Think! the voice of reason shouted in her head—and Megan knew she’d be a fool not to listen. The rascal certainly knew how to kiss. But then, he’d had plenty of practice. Was he practicing on her—maybe warming up for Lacy?

Think! The man had just confessed to crushing on another woman. Now he was kissing her—and getting away with it. Who did he think he was?

Summoning her outrage, she placed her hands on his chest and shoved him backward. Even in the dark, she could see that he was grinning like a satisfied cat.

“What did you think you were doing?” she sputtered.

“I was kissing you. And you liked it. Don’t tell me you didn’t.”

She turned away from him in the seat, gazing forward into the darkness beyond the windshield. “You are out of line, Conner Branch,” she said in her firmest teacher voice. “Take me home this minute.”

“As you wish.” He laughed as he put the Jeep in gear and pulled away from the curb. “I hope you’re not waiting for an apology.”

“I wouldn’t expect one from a man who thinks he’s so hot that women will beg him for a kiss.”

Still laughing, he swung the Jeep around and headed back toward Main Street. “You could’ve stopped me,” he said. “I’m aware that ‘no’ means no. And my hearing is excellent.”

But she hadn’t stopped him. The instant his hand had touched her face, she’d known that he was about to kiss her. She could have easily pulled away or spoken up, but she hadn’t. In fact, she’d kissed him back.

Hot-faced, Megan watched the colored Christmas lights blur into rainbows. Any argument she could raise would only sink her deeper. All she could do was let him take her home and, before getting out of the Jeep, make it clear that she never wanted to date him again.

“I like you, Megan,” he said, pulling up in front of her family’s house. “I hope you’ll let me see you again.”

The man had brass. She had to give him that. “I don’t know if that would be such a good idea,” she said.

“Why? Because I kissed you?”

“In part. But mostly because you’re holding out for another woman. For all I know, you were imagining her when you kissed me.”

He shook his head. “Wrong guess. Believe me, that was you I was kissing, and I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“You’re insufferable,” she said.