“Denial won’t do you any good. Besides, she’s pretty. She’s talented. She’s famous. Heaven knows you need a famous girl to keep your big head in check.” Keefe chuckled. “Don’t worry. A few minutes with Kenneth will do her good. After she listens to him babble on about his investments for awhile, she’ll realize that you’re more than just a pretty face. The comparison will show you in a good light.”
“She’s just a neighbor.” But he knew even as he said the words that they were a lie.
“Yeah, right. A neighbor who got you to invite your family home and decorate your house. She plays you.”
Keefe was right. And so was Alyssa. It was time to beat Kenneth at his silly games. Kyle stood. “I’ll go help carry the food over.”
Keefe chuckled. “You do that.”
* * *
Lexi watched Kyle’s family eat her food and felt a deep sense of contentment and satisfaction. She loved dinner parties, and hosted them regularly. But this was the first one in a long time for a family---and, what’s more, Kyle’s family felt like family. They were warm and big and bumbling and loud. She and Trista and Steven fit right in, as though they belonged.
It had seemed like the ultimate challenge to help this holiday-challenged, Bah-Humbug!-type of man open up to the warmth of Christmas, but he’d responded wonderfully and easily, with just the slightest hint of fake blackmail on her part. She suspected that it wasn’t so much her doing, as the fact that he must be ready to heal. Alyssa had said as much to her about her husband.
Kyle’s father Kelly turned toward her. “This is one of the three best dinners of my whole life, young lady.”
“Don’t feel bad, Lexi,” Kyle leaned toward her and said, “Mama’s manicotti and eggplant parmigiana are the only things that beat you out.”
Kenneth raised his glass of sparkling cider. “I hear you’re the reason our scrooge of a brother invited us home for the holidays. You are a miracle worker in many areas, it seems.”
“Thank you. Though it has truly been my pleasure. Thank you for sharing your family hospitality with me and my children. And now,” she pushed back from the chair, “it’s time for pies.”
While an appreciative murmur worked its way around the table, Kyle jumped up so quickly he nearly knocked his chair over. “I’ll help.” Kenneth smiled at her, relaxed back into his seat, and winked at her. Was she missing something?
They were quiet as they walked across the lawn, dodging the ornaments they’d placed there--was it really only yesterday?--and she wondered if his thoughts were as dangerous as her own. The warmth and coziness of the holidays, of fitting in with a family again, was a temptation almost more than she could resist. But she’d made that particular mistake once before. She couldn’t make it twice.
But when he reached over and took her hand, she laced her fingers through his without a thought, as naturally as though she’d always known him, always cared. And when he let loose of her hand so she could find her keys and open the door, she was acutely aware of the loss.
As they stepped into her kitchen, he said, “You did a very nice thing tonight. Dinner was delicious. Why you’d go out of your way to feed so many strangers is beyond me. You truly do have the spirit of Christmas in your heart.”
“You’re making fun of me again, aren’t you?” But he didn’t sound mocking. He was looking at her as if he wanted to touch her again. And, heaven knows, she wanted him to.
And when he did reach for her hand again, taking it in his two, warmth spiraled up her arm.
“I may make fun of a lot of people, but I will never mock you for doing what you do best. You have brought a happiness into my house that hasn’t been there before. You got my family laughing, and they haven’t laughed together at Christmas time for a long time. Kenneth is right--you have created a miracle here.”
His fingers drew circles in her palm and it was hard to catch her breath to say, “It has been a wonderful party. But that’s because of your family.”
He leaned in closer. “I think some of it has to do with a certain very nice, very talented, very pretty lady with a generous heart.”
She looked into his eyes and couldn’t say a thing. She, who made her living talking into the camera, couldn’t think of a thing to say.
Slowly, he moved in a little closer. Was he going to kiss her?
Conflicting emotions warred within her. She wanted to kiss him but, oh, what that would do to complicate her life.
But she found herself leaning closer. She looked up into his eyes.
Only inches away, he seemed to catch himself, pulling back awkwardly.