I’m not seeing anyone.
She was single.
There was no logical reason why he should care one way or the other.
After this week, he’d never see her again.
And yet, rational or not, he’d never heard better news in all his life.
CHAPTER 14
FRANK
That evening, Frank couldn’t help a satisfied smile as Nate passed Juliet an ornament to hang on the tree. When their fingers grazed, Jules’s cheeks flushed, and Nate looked like someone had zapped him with a cattle prod.
Frank wasn’t sure what had transpired on their Christmas tree excursion earlier, but Bevy might be onto something with this whole matchmaking thing. And sending them in to see Cassie hadn’t been a bad idea, either. Not only had she given Nate the Christmas Calendar—the contents of which would provide a healthy dose of holiday magic—she’d roped them into working on the middle school pageant together.
If he’d learned anything from Bevy’s schmaltzy movies, it was that the soon-to-be lovebirds needed an external reason to spend more time together. Oh, and apparently, there’s something romantic about airport proposals, which makes about as much sense as stringing pearls on a pig. No one should kneel on a floor that filthy unless they planned to celebrate their engagement with a stomach virus. But he digressed….
Frank glanced at his wife. Beverly flitted around the room, refilling their glasses of eggnog while some peppy song about a Christmas tree farm by a young singer named Taylor Smith—or was it Swift?—bounced around in the background. Juliet had picked the playlist. He would’ve preferred some Eartha Kitt or Peggy Lee, but the music wasn’t terrible. At least it wasn’t “Jingle Bells.”
As she fussed over her guests, Beverly beamed brighter than the lights on the tree, and Frank allowed himself a few extra seconds of shameless ogling.
Move over, Barbara Stanwyck. You ain’t got nothin’ on my Bevy.
“A potted Christmas tree is such a lovely idea. Quite ingenious, too.” Beverly closed her eyes and inhaled the crisp, tangy scent of pine before hanging her next ornament—a small snowflake made of sea glass.
“Aunt Beverly, that ornament is gorgeous.” Peering over her shoulder, Juliet admired the shimmering glass pebbles. Their rainbow palette appeared even more vivid bathed in the glow of the multicolored bulbs. “Where did you get it?”
“Frank bought it during a weekend getaway last year.” Bevy cast him a sweet, loving glance. “We went to visit a café that serves his coffee. It’s located in the cutest little town called Blessings Bay. We saw the ornament on display in the window and had to get it to commemorate our trip. It’s a new tradition we started when we got married. We pick an ornament every Christmas to signify a special memory from that year.”
“That’s a beautiful tradition,” Juliet said with a soft smile. “You two are so sweet.”
Was it his imagination or did Juliet look wistful, as if she wanted the kind of relationship he and Bevy had? If his wife got her Christmas wish, Juliet would be well on her way to happily ever after by New Year’s.
“You and Nate should pick out an ornament, too!” Beverly clapped her hands in excitement. “We can go shopping tomorrow.”
“Th-the two of us?” Nate stammered, red-faced, as if he’d assumed Bevy meant they should pick out a joint ornament together. To what? Commemorate their blossoming relationship? Frank suppressed a chuckle. Private Henderson must have romance on the brain.
“Of course!” Bevy affirmed. “You can each take one home as a souvenir. A little treat, on me.”
“Oh.” The boy relaxed at Bevy’s clarification. “That’s very kind of you.”
“I don’t know,” Juliet interjected. “I wouldn’t even know what to pick.”
“That’s easy, dear! Your ornament should be writing-related, like a book or a pen. To celebrate your big publishing contract.”
At Bevy’s suggestion, Juliet suddenly focused all her attention on straightening a crooked ornament on the tree. Had something about Bevy’s comment made her uncomfortable?
He made a mental note to ask Juliet how the novel was coming along the next time they had a moment alone. He’d written his first book on his own timeline, but he’d been under contract for the second one. And he’d only been able to meet his deadline thanks to Cassie’s help.
“Speaking of my big publishing deal”—Juliet smiled, but Frank could tell she’d forced it into existence—“I should get back to work. I have a play to rewrite, too.”
“Of course, dear.” Bevy hid her disappointment well.
Private Henderson, on the other hand, did not. The young man took a sip of eggnog, but his eyes never left Juliet’s face. His gaze followed her out of the room. And if Frank wasn’t mistaken, it took all the soldier’s self-control not to take off after her.
“What would you choose as your ornament, Nate?” Bevy handed him one end of the popcorn and cranberry garland they’d strung together last night.
