Chapter Fourteen

Bo

For the better part of an hour, Izzy and I had been standing back, watching what felt like all sixteen hundred town residents (sorry, sixteen hundred and two) come out and adorn the Christmas tree in the center of town with their personalized Christmas ornaments.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I turned to Izzy. “Are you going to hang yours yet?”

With a goofy grin on her face, she turned to me. “I think so and I know just the spot.” She reached out and took my hand with her free one, the other clutching her ornament to her chest. “Come with me,” she explained.

Nodding, I walked with her up to the tree and actually felt the whole community thing she tried to tell me about on more than one occasion. Don’t get me wrong, at first I thought it was all malarkey, but seeing the way everyone came out for the event, it was something else. “This is nice,” I admitted as we stopped squarely in front of the spot she’d been eyeing.

“It’s a good spot, isn’t it?”

I wasn’t talking about that, but I nodded my agreement just the same.

She dropped my hand and wrapped both hands around her ornament, spinning it around so I could finally get a good look at the thing. It was hand-painted with a red and yellow diamond behind her name, the lettering big and blocky. It was easily one of the nicest (read: not tacky) ornaments I’d seen in my life.

Izzy held up the hook and opened it a bit before slipping it on a branch and closing the hook around it. The way her face lit up as her name blended on the tree among the names of so many others—Nancy, Mike, Lola, Evan—made me think about what it’d be like to see my name someplace like this. In New York that was never happening, but this town had this way about it. Even though I fought it—hard—it sucked me in.

“It’s perfect,” I noted, my eyes on her again. I mean, nothing was perfect, and yet some things just felt that way, Izzy included.

Murmuring her agreement, she backed up and extended her hand again for me to take. “Want to go find a place to sit and watch the lights go on?” she asked, looking up at the sky. “Once the sun sets, they’ll turn them on.”

“I’d like that,” I said, finding I really meant it. Taking her hand in mine, something we’d been doing lately, I led us away from the tree just as Louie and Fiona were walking up to it, a crowd of others behind them. They looked like two lovebirds who’d be married in less than twenty-four hours, leading the pack, so other than a passing smile, we didn’t stop them and kept going.

* * *

Izzy wrapped her hands around the cup of hot cocoa like it was a life raft and she didn’t want to let it go because her life depended on it. “Your cup called, it asked that you loosen your grip on it.”

She whipped her head to look at me. “What?”

I pointed to the cup and chuckled. “You’re choking that thing.”

“Ha,” she replied, getting my joke now. “I get it.”

I sipped from my own cup full of coffee and clenched my teeth from the sudden burst of temperature change in my mouth. My butt cheeks were growing icicles on them and then a hot substance slid down my throat, it took a minute to get used to that. Hopefully what they said was true and it would warm me from the inside out. Who knew it would get this cold here? New York, sure, but I didn’t expect this from North Carolina.

Engaging in conversation with me again and seemingly getting out of her head, she asked, “How can you drink that stuff when it’s so hot?”

Before I answered her, my own mind started to wander. What was she thinking about anyway? We just had a great evening at the tree lighting. Yet, she seemed perplexed almost. Honestly, it didn’t bode well with me, which was probably why I tried my hand at cracking a joke. I wanted her to loosen up and smile.

Don’t bother saying it, I already knew. Here, I’ll go ahead and say it for you—where the heck did that come from? Well, I was changing.

Lightening up.

I supposed you could say my heart was growing two sizes too big and all that other stuff. However it went, I surely didn’t know.

“Bo?” she pushed. “So how do you not burn your tongue or the roof of your mouth with it being so hot?”

I tilted my head as we continued to walk on the sidewalk, enjoying the weather (cold as it was) and this quiet night. “Isn’t that sort of the whole point in ordering a hot drink? To warm you up? That only happens when it’s hot.”

“I like to hold it, that makes me warm enough.”

“So you drink it when it’s cold?”

“Not cold,” she returned. “Just cooler than scorching hot.”

I shrugged. “I don’t get it, but then again I’ve always liked my food hot. I can’t stand it when food sits too long and gets cold.”

“Warm,” she corrected.

“Tomato, tomahto.”

She shook her head. “Let me explain to you where I’m coming from. I drink this hot cocoa now at this piping hot temperature and it hurts, like I-stubbed-my-toe-and-all-I-want-to-do-is-hold-it-and-rub-it hurt. Naturally, I try to soothe the pain with a cold glass of water, which makes the hot beverage a moot point because now I’ve got chills from the cold. Then I wake up the next morning and think it must be better, but no, the water was like a placebo, and how do I know that you ask?”

She huffed and then started up again before I had a chance to point out that I did not, in fact, ask. “Well, the skin on the roof of my mouth, the precious skin that I have come to love and adore is now hanging there flapping in the breeze.”

I cleared my throat, holding back a laugh, but she widened her eyes and shot a finger out, pointing it in my direction. “Flapping,” she repeated, just short of scaring me. “It’s hanging on for dear life and someone call the funeral home because we need to grieve this skin that will never be the same and we all know is going to fall off. So you say goodbye to a perfectly good piece of skin that did nothing wrong and had no idea that you were going to scorch it.”

All of this for a piece of skin that would grow back?

“And even after it falls off, I don’t enjoy food as much, at least not for a week or so because it hurts. Oh, and don’t even try eating chips because that’s a real bit—“

I held up a hand and shook my head. “I’m sorry. I take back what I said. You should totally drink it at whatever temperature you want. You know your body best.”

“Thank you,” she said simply and took her first sip. “See, great timing, it’s all about timing, Bo.”

“I’m seeing that.”

And now was not a good time for Izzy. She was clearly tired if she was rattling on about skin and funeral homes. . . . I honestly didn’t know, so don’t ask.

“Why don’t I walk you home?” She wanted to show me the ice skating rink, but maybe another time would be better.

“No, come on. We have to strike while the iron is hot, and you said you wanted to see it. Who knows if you’ll want to tomorrow?”

True, but the truth was, if Izzy was the one showing me, I’d want to see it anytime of day.

Then she eyed me. “Why? Did your father call and give you work or something? I thought you said you weren’t dealing with anything anymore while you were here if it wasn’t an emergency.”

And that was still true. After we tested cake for the wedding, I realized I wanted to be more present, so I asked my father to deal with things unless I was absolutely needed. He didn’t like it, but he was all right with it. Especially because he knew that I’d be back soon enough and stepping into his role.

The thing was, I didn’t know if I was ready to leave.

I knew what you were thinking—you were shocked. I was, too, but it was still true.

I looked over at Izzy, who had just finished sipping more of her hot cocoa and had foam from the whipped cream on her upper lip line, like a mustache. Yeah, for the first time in a long time I felt like I was exactly where I belonged.

“It’s nothing like that,” I finally answered about having to get work done tonight.

“Good because I really want to show you the rink. It’s beautiful and one of my favorite places to be when the weather is like this and no one is really around.”

I nodded and lifted my hand, gesturing to her lip. “May I?” I asked, looking for her approval to touch her face.

She nodded, brushing a strand of her brown hair back, behind her ear. “Do I have cream on my face?”

I grinned. “You do.” I wiped it with my finger and looked into her eyes, watching as she seemed to be wrestling with herself, just as I was. I leaned in closer and was shocked when her tongue darted out and she licked my finger.

She licked her lips after. “I can’t waste good cream, right?”

I pushed my tongue up against the inside of my cheek. “Sure.”

What an idiot I was. I couldn’t believe I tried to go in for a kiss. She obviously wasn’t looking for that and did that to divert the situation. Right?

I cleared my throat and went to change the subject and make things less awkward, but Izzy beat me to it, asking, “So what happened that you don’t trust people?”

“Huh?” Where did that come from?

“Sorry, that was out of the blue.” It sure was. “I just mean, you once asked me if I was looking to sell your story to a blog and I was wondering where that came from.”

How did I tell a person like Izzy who saw the good in everyone that sometimes people were vile and self-centered? “With my position and who I am, it’s hard to know who I can trust and who’s just playing me.”

“And you’ve been burned before?”

“If you mean someone used me and then hurt me with their lies, then yes.”

“I’m sorry, Bo.”

“Hey, what are you sorry about? You didn’t do it.”

“I know,” she replied and peered up at me with sympathy in her eyes before grabbing my hand in hers and holding it between us. “Just so you know, I would never do that to you. I really hope you believe that.”

I wasn’t sure of much, but that I had no doubt about. Izzy was as loyal as they came, I had come to learn. She would do anything for the people she cared about—and she cared about a lot of people—and I counted myself lucky that I was one of those people.

“You don’t know how to skate, do you?”

I shook my head. “Afraid not.”

“Not tonight, but I’m going to teach you one day.”

“And I’m going to fall on my butt.”

“No you won’t.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I won’t let you go.”

* * *

It didn’t take Izzy but a second to answer my question. “I’m deathly afraid of clowns.” She shuddered. “I don’t think there’s anything quite worse than those things.” Clearly feeling some sort of way (fired up from the looks of it) about the prospect of clowns, Izzy continued, “It’s not one particular thing about them, either, that makes them so scary. It’s just that they are creepy by their very nature.” She shook her head and pointed a finger at me. “No, creepier than creepy.” She angled her head. “Is there a word for that?”

I didn’t know what else to do but stare at this woman who completely mesmerized me even when she was talking about clowns. I chuckled. “What is it about them that creeps you out? They’re loved by children all over.” I pointed out, “It’s the most booked gig at birthday parties for those under the age of ten.”

She swallowed. “Yeah, well, not me. I don’t see how they’re fun or appealing.”

I swayed my head back and forth, trying to see her point. “There are multiple horror movies featuring clowns,” I conceded.

“See,” she practically shrieked. Then she widened her eyes. “You just proved my point.”

“I gather you don’t like horror movies?”

She gave me a look as though asking if I was kidding. “Of course I don’t like horror movies. I prefer my cheesy, cozy romances, thank you very much.” She nudged me as we walked. “What, do you like scary movies about ax murderers and, oh, I don’t know, haunted houses?”

I tried stifling a laugh, but it didn’t work. “Haunted houses?” I grinned.

She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s the best I could come up with. I change the channel or look away when those commercials come on.”

“They’re not that bad,” I tried convincing her. “Although, no, I don’t watch them. I have seen two or three in my life, but none recently. And would I go out of my way to catch one? Nah.”

She straightened her back and raised her head high, obviously pleased with my answer. “Good, because those movies aren’t nice.”

“Yes, and it would be wrong to watch a movie that didn’t feed into the whole happily ever after bit you love so much.” I didn’t really care one way or the other, but watching her get all riled up, well, I enjoyed that. She was so passionate about everything. At first I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but now I was liking it.

She licked her lips and stopped walking, so I did the same and stood there, watching her looking up at me. “Is that ridiculous?” She cleared her throat. “I mean, that I believe in happily ever after. I just like to think that somewhere out there is my prince, you know?”

I cleared my own throat now, my gaze fixed on her lips. What I wouldn’t give for just a taste of them. “Yeah, well, maybe you’ve already met him,” I said and immediately regretted it. What was I saying? Even to my own ears it sounded like I was talking about me. “Never mind,” I quickly tried to save it. “I don’t think you’re ridiculous, just optimistic.”

I started walking again and she did, too.

“I know and you’re a realist, but I think I’m okay with that. Being optimistic, I mean.” She added, “I think we all could benefit from being a little bit more positive. If we are, then more good things will come our way. At least, I like to think so.”

I arched a brow and peered over at her. “Something your parents told you?”

“No, actually. It’s just my dad and he didn’t tell me that.” She giggled then. “Something I read in a book.”

Regarding her closely, I stopped again and shared what was on my mind. “Don’t change that, Izzy.”

“Change what?” she questioned, looking confused.

“Yourself, your optimism, the way you see life.” I sighed. “One day a man is going to be lucky to be able to see the world through your eyes and you’ll create something beautiful together.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Bo. That means a lot to me.”

Pushing down my feelings that were growing much too strong for this woman, I looked away.

But she tapped my shoulder, calling my attention back to her. “And Bo?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not changing anytime soon, so don’t worry.”

“Good.”

* * *

In this moment, as we sat on a bench looking out at the pond that had become a quaint ice skating rink, I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off Izzy. The way the moonlight was hitting her, it was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Her beauty was unmatched.

I had been through so much, but for some reason it all led me here to this moment. And it all became clear to me as I sat next to her—I didn’t want to give up on the slightest possibility that Izzy and I could give this a real shot. No one knew what the future held, but I didn’t care so long as I knew she would be part of that. I needed her to know that. She deserved to know, so she could figure out what she wanted, right?

I ran a hand through my hair and looked away. Geez, what was I saying? This wasn’t an ideal situation. I mean, she lived here, had her whole life here, and I was in New York. I was supposed to take over my father’s company. I had been groomed for that my whole life.

I had responsibilities.

But what did any of those things matter if I had no one to share them with?

And for the first time in my life I felt like there was a real chance.

Ugh, where was this coming from?

I didn’t normally care about that stuff. I didn’t give one iota about coming home alone, didn’t want a family, traditions to pass on, holiday shenanigans.

“Bo,” Izzy spoke softly, her voice sounding angelic to my ears, a total one-eighty from when I first heard her speak at the bar. She placed a hand on mine, covering it in my lap. “What’s wrong?”

See, this was why I was currently thinking about what it would be like to have a household full of children, my wife and I chasing after them as they ran around rambunctiously. That was what Izzy did to me. She made me realize maybe I could have that. That I shouldn’t be afraid to want that.

I looked over at her and placed my hand on her cheek, which she leaned into. Then she closed her eyes and sighed, her lips curling upward at the corners as she said, “You make me happy.” Quickly, I noticed her eyes open and she swallowed hard. “I just mean. . . I didn’t. . .”

I brushed my thumb over her smooth skin and offered her a smile, just like she’d always given to me. “You make me happy, too.”

Her eyes looked between mine, her thumb grazing my beard just along the edge of my mouth, the curve of my lips. “What are we doing here, Bo?”

If only I knew. I chuckled and answered honestly—“For the first time, I have no idea what I’m doing, but it feels really good to not know.”

She arched a brow. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“That’s just because I’m not open about my feelings, but I want to be open with you. I want you to know that I don’t know what’s going on between us, but I know I want to find out.”

“Me, too,” she agreed.

I leaned in slowly, my gaze going from her eyes to her lips to make sure this was really what she wanted. When she leaned in, too, I was fully prepared to kiss her and stop silencing what my heart had been trying to tell me. But then Izzy shattered the moment by blurting out, “The wedding!”

I gave her a puzzled expression, furrowing my brows and studying her now. I was trying to see if I missed a sign. I didn’t think I had, so why the sudden outburst? She had to have known that would stop the kiss from happening.

She backed up and I did the same, retreating my hand from her cheek. “What about it?” I asked, even though I didn’t care about the wedding right now. In fact, it was the last thing on my mind.

“I wonder how Fiona and Louie are holding up. It must be crazy knowing the next thing they know they’re going to be husband and wife, married, betrothed, their wagons hitched to one another.”

I cocked a brow. “I get the idea of marriage,” I responded more than a little confused.

“Oh, sorry. I just can’t believe it’s happening so soon.”

I nodded, trying to come back from the sudden one-eighty. “Yeah, me neither. We should probably get going before the sun comes up.” It was pretty late and like she said, the wedding was no small thing and we had to be ready for the ceremony tomorrow.

“You’re right,” she said, snapping her fingers and getting up.

I followed suit and we began walking back. “Thanks for taking me here.”

“Thanks for being such great company,” she replied with her usual smile, like nothing was just about to happen.

Maybe it was for the best.