Happily This Christmas--A Novel Read online

  “I’ll give you whatever advice you’d like,” she told him. “But my style might not be hers. That could be a problem.”

  “No, you and Joylyn have a lot in common design-wise. You have a good eye for space and color, and she would like what you do.”

  His words made her feel a little floaty, which was silly. She was in some serious trouble here—she hadn’t been this flaky even in high school. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to start flipping her hair and saying “like” in every sentence.

  “If you’re all right with me adding fringe to every surface in your house, then I’m in,” she told him.

  He chuckled. “Fringe would be a look.”

  “But not a good one?” she teased.

  “I’m not a fringe kind of guy.”

  “Good to know. Tell me about Joylyn.”

  Something sad flashed through his eyes. “I don’t see her much anymore. In fact, I haven’t seen her since the wedding. Like I said, we used to be tight.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “She was my best girl.”

  “I’m sorry that changed.”

  “Me, too.” He was silent for a second, then drew in a breath. “As I said, she’s married to Chandler, who is currently deployed. Alisha says he’ll be back before the baby’s born because first babies are always late.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe my little girl is going to be a mother. It all happened so fast.”

  “Children grow up even when we don’t want them to. I’m figuring that out with Hunter.”

  “He’s a good kid.”

  “Thanks. I like to think so.” She wrapped her hands around her glass of milk. “I’m happy to help with whatever you need, and I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

  “Thank you for the offer. As for the rest of it, I can see why you’d think what you did. In my own defense, I’ll admit it never occurred to me you wouldn’t know about my daughter, what with Happily Inc being a small town and all.”

  “This might shock you, Garrick, but we don’t spend a lot of time talking about you.”

  He stared at her in mock surprise. “Now you’re just being mean.”

  She laughed. “We have our own lives we discuss.”

  “But hey, it’s me.”

  They smiled at each other. Wynn wondered if there was a way to ask about any other women that might be in his life, but figured she shouldn’t press her luck. She was going to help her neighbor, and in the helping, she might get a chance to probe into his personal life. If he was single, she would try to find a way to suggest they go out to dinner and get to know each other. Of course the more likely scenario was that they spent some time together, and then she discovered he was annoying. Because that seemed to happen a lot. Her friends said she was too picky, while she thought of herself as careful.

  “When is she going to move in with you?” she asked.

  “Next Saturday.”

  “Then we should probably take a look at your house and make a plan.”

  “When’s a good time?” he asked.

  “I’m free now.”

  * * *

  “ME, TOO,” Garrick said, coming to his feet.

  Wynn rose and smiled. “Let’s go.”

  She picked up her cell phone from the counter and tucked it in the back pocket of her jeans, then led the way to the front door. He followed, trying to keep his gaze in the neutral position, which was tough. He kept finding himself checking out her long legs and her butt. She had a great butt—all curves with a little bounce. It was a butt a man could grab hold of for all kinds of reasons.

  Down, boy, he told himself. Yes, Wynn had the requisite parts, and she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, but there was no way he was going to do anything about it. He didn’t do commitments anymore and doubted Wynn was the kind of woman who wanted anything else. In the year they’d been neighbors, he’d never seen her bring a man home. He had a feeling some of that was about her standards, and a lot of it was about being a single mom. She took her responsibilities to her son seriously.

  Thinking about Hunter made him think about Joylyn. He was glad she was going to come stay with him, even for a few weeks. All these years later, he still didn’t know what had gone sideways between them when she’d been a teenager, but whatever it was, he wanted to make it right. She was his daughter and he missed her.

  They crossed her lawn and driveway before walking up to his porch. He stepped around Wynn and opened his unlocked front door.

  “This is me.”

  She went into the house.

  Their neighborhood in Happily Inc was older, with family homes on good-sized lots. The trees were mature, the streets wide and the houses all around two thousand square feet.

  Wynn paused in his living room and looked at the black leather sectional, and the seventy-five-inch TV mounted on the wall.

  “That is a very large television,” she murmured.

  He suspected she didn’t mean the comment as a compliment, but he was good with that. “I like sports. Bigger is better.”

  “With the players practically life-size?”

  He grinned, unrepentant. “It’s a guy thing.”

  “No wonder Hunter is always begging me to let him come over and watch the game with you.”

  “You should say yes. I’m good with kids.” He always had been. The skill probably came from having a child when he’d still been in high school. He’d been forced to learn fast. He’d spent much of his after-school hours during his senior year studying while looking after Joylyn. He’d learned how to manage feedings, diapers and colic. He might have been a kid himself, but he’d done his best to be a good dad.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She pointed to the walls. “You don’t have any artwork.”

  “Should I?” He studied the bare space. “Doesn’t it look clean just plain?”

  “There’s clean and then there’s sterile. A few inexpensive prints would add a little color. Maybe distract from the continent-size television.”

  He grinned. “But why would you want to do that?”

  “There is something strange about your gender.”

  “I’ve heard that.”

  She smiled as she walked around the room.

  “Ignoring the black leather sofa, to which I would ask, ‘what were you thinking,’ the space is good. I like the end tables.”

  He glanced at the wood-and-glass cubes. They were more modern than he usually liked, but they were well made and the wood was mahogany inlaid with ebony.

  “I’m pretty sure they’re custom,” he told her. “I know they’re handmade. I found them at an estate sale. They were pricey, but worth it.”

  “They’re gorgeous.” She pulled out her phone and took a few pictures. “Maybe we can find some pieces that link back to the pattern on the wood. You never know.” She looked at him. “Kitchen next?”

  He led the way.

  One of the reasons he’d bought the house was the fact that it had already been updated. He liked working with his hands, but he preferred projects to be things he wanted to do rather than things that were required to make a place livable. He’d wanted three bedrooms, and the pool out back had been a plus. The kitchen was big with a lot of windows and good-quality cabinets. His real estate agent had gone on about the appliances and counter space, but he didn’t cook, so none of that mattered to him. He was more of a takeout kind of guy. He worked long hours, he lived alone—getting food to-go was easy.

  He waited while Wynn looked around. Her brown eyes were large and expressive. He liked her eyes. And her hair. It was dark and long and curly. Like, really curly. He often found himself wanting to touch the curls to see if they were as soft as they looked.

  Of course he also thought about other kinds of touching—not that he would act on those thoughts, either. But a guy could dream, and Wynn was
definitely dream material.

  She pointed to the empty space by the bay window. “That would be where a table and chairs would go. Unless you eat in the dining room.”

  “I didn’t furnish the dining room.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “So you eat...” She put her hands on her hips. “No. Do not tell me you either eat standing up at the counter or while sitting on the sofa.”

  She was an intriguing combination of annoyed and amused.

  “You’re not speaking,” she said.

  “You told me not to.”

  She laughed. “You’re right, I did. My mistake. So you do eat at the counter or on the sofa.”

  “It’s easy.”

  “You are such a guy. Fine. You need a table and chairs. Joylyn will not think standing while dining is the least bit cozy.” She walked over to his cabinets and glanced at him. “May I?”

  He nodded.

  She began opening doors, then closing them. He knew she wouldn’t find much inside. He owned a handful of plates, a few bowls and mugs, some flatware. His cooking supplies consisted of a couple of pots, one with a lid, and a cookie sheet he’d never used.

  She glanced in the large pantry, where he kept his coffee and a few boxes of cereal. When she closed the door, she turned to him.

  “You don’t cook.”

  It wasn’t a question, but he answered it anyway. “Nope.”

  “Joylyn is going to need healthy food, which means cooking at home. Does she know how?”

  “She does.”

  Alisha had taught her. He still remembered the first time Joylyn had made him dinner. Spaghetti. She’d used every pot and pan he’d owned and the kitchen had been a mess, but she’d been so proud of herself and he’d been impressed as hell.

  Recalling that made the ache of missing her a little more intense. He supposed some fathers wouldn’t be thrilled to have their pregnant daughter moving in, but he couldn’t wait. They would have time together—time for him to figure out why he’d lost her and how to get her back.

  Wynn glanced around. “You’re going to need dishes, flatware, serving pieces, pots and pans. Actually, everything.” She shook her head. “Shall we go look at her bedroom?”

  On the way to the bedrooms, she ducked into the hall bathroom.

  “It’s empty,” she said, reappearing in the hallway. “You’re going to need supplies in there, too. Towels and soap and a bath mat.” Her eyebrows rose. “Maybe some kind of artwork on the wall.”

  He groaned. “In a bathroom? Is that normal?”

  “It is. Trust me. Now where’s the bedroom?”

  He pointed to the larger of the spare rooms. He used the smaller one for an office. He’d set up a folding table and chair and used a moving box as a file cabinet. He only had a laptop and a printer—he didn’t need anything more.

  Wynn walked into Joylyn’s room and came to a stop. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. “Oh, Garrick, where did you find this?”

  “A guy I knew back in Phoenix was selling it. The set belonged to his great-grandmother. It’s not too much?”

  “No. It’s perfect.”

  Wynn crossed to the large four-poster bed. The wood, also mahogany, was intricately carved with flowers and fairies and leaves. The dresser and nightstands had the same design.

  Despite their size, all the pieces seemed light and whimsical. The second he’d seen the pictures, he’d known that Joylyn would love it. Before handing over a check, Garrick had examined every inch of the furniture and had quickly figured out the set had been made by a master craftsman. He’d bought it, thinking he would give it to her when she and Chandler got settled after Chandler left the Marines. Now she would get to see it before that.

  “What are Joylyn’s favorite colors?” Wynn asked, running her hands across the carvings.

  “Purple and blue.”

  She smiled. “We’ll get a really great comforter. A thick one that’s soft. And lots of pillows.” She glanced at him, her eyes bright with excitement. “The hall bathroom is pretty plain, so we can continue the color theme in there. Extra thick towels with a matching bath mat. Maybe some accessories.”

  “And artwork,” he said dryly. “Don’t forget that.”

  She grinned. “I won’t.” She looked at the walls. “Maybe a fairy print. We’ll have to see what they have. Or maybe I can find something online and have it printed on canvas. It’s a great look and not that expensive. We can decide as we go.”

  “We?”

  She returned her attention to him. “I assumed you weren’t just asking for a shopping list. You have great taste in furniture, but you seem lacking in the softer touches. Unless you want to do it on your own?”

  “Absolutely not. I appreciate your willingness to see this through.” He hesitated. “I asked for your help because I knew you’d make her room look good, but I didn’t mean for you to take on a whole project.”

  She smiled. “It’s a challenge and I love a challenge. Plus I’m committed now.”

  Her voice was teasing, her expression happy. As she’d said, he’d only known her well enough to say hello and comment on the weather. He’d noticed her, of course. No straight guy could be within twenty feet of Wynn and not notice her, but that was physical. He hadn’t thought much about who she was.

  Now he found himself enjoying her company and wanting to know more about her.

  “With Joylyn arriving next weekend, we don’t have a lot of time,” she added. “How about going shopping tomorrow?”

  “If you’re available, that would be great.”

  “I’m free.” The smile returned. “You’re going to have to brace yourself. This is going to be a big hit on your credit card.”

  “Not a problem.” He had plenty of savings, and except for food and an occasional guys’ night out, he rarely spent any money. “I want Joylyn to feel good about staying here. Thanks for helping me, Wynn.”

  She smiled. “You are going to owe me big time.”

  “You name your price and I’ll pay it.”

  Something flashed in her eyes. For a second he wondered if she was going to suggest something he would find intriguing, but then she looked away.

  “I’ll let you know what I decide. In the meantime I’ll get going on the shopping list. I’m going to start in the kitchen.”

  She walked down the hall. He allowed himself to admire that view of her, then shook off any lingering desire. Wynn was his neighbor. She was helping him when she didn’t have to, and he would respect that. As for wanting anything else—he knew better. Relationships always ended badly for him. He’d been through enough to know he was done with trying to make one work.

  If he wanted to repay her for what she was doing, he would build her a gazebo or expand her back deck. Nothing else. Anything romantic would only be a disaster.

  CHAPTER TWO

  WYNN WAS SURPRISED to realize she’d never been shopping with a man before. It seemed an odd kind of event to have missed in her life—after all, she was a business owner and single mom. She’d dated men—sort of—and had been in a couple of semiserious relationships. She’d had sex with men, had dinner, gone to bars, concerts and completed a whole list of normal activities with the opposite gender, but she’d never gone shopping of any kind.

  “Thanks again for helping me with my project,” Garrick said, glancing at her briefly before turning his attention to the road.

  They were in his ridiculously large black SUV, heading to the outlet mall about forty miles from Happily Inc where there were a couple of big bed-and-bath kind of stores, along with a few furniture places.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” she told him with a grin. “I’m going to test your ability to handle fringe.”

  “You keep mentioning that. I’m starting to think you’re not kidding.”

  “You’re going to have to wait
and find out.”

  She pulled a list out of her handbag. “We should get the kitchen table and chairs first. Once we have that, we’ll deal with linens and kitchenware, leaving the artwork for last.” She glanced at him. “In case you flake out, we’ll have the most important items taken care of.”

  “Flake out? I’m the one who came to you. I want to make this happen.”

  “You say that now, but let’s see how you handle all the shopping.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up. “Maybe I like shopping.”

  “Oh, please. If you did, you’d have more stuff in your house. Most guys don’t like shopping, which I’ve never understood. All you have to do is pretend you’re hunting. You stalk, you pounce, you strap it to the car and take it home. A total win, but men don’t see it that way.”

  He chuckled. “There are a lot of gross generalizations in those few sentences.”

  “I’ll admit that’s true, but how many of them are wrong?”

  “Not as many as I’d like.”

  She smiled. This was nice—being with Garrick in the not-quite close confines of his SUV. He had a very commanding presence she found appealing, along with the subtle scent of freshly showered man that she’d been missing in her life. Today would be a great opportunity to figure out if they had any kind of chemistry and if there was any “there” there. Of course given her sucky personal life, there was every chance she was going to end up being ready to try a little kissing action about the time he was ready to head home and watch the game.

  “What’s Hunter doing today?” he asked.

  “Hanging out with a friend. He couldn’t believe I was letting him out of his Sunday chores.”

  “That would be a sweet victory. He’s in what, ninth grade?”

  “Uh-huh. Ninth grade is middle school in Happily Inc, so he’s in high school next year. I can’t believe how fast he’s growing up.”

  “They do that. Enjoy every second while he’s still living at home.”