Mary tipped her head and studied him again. “You look a heap of a lot like him now, as I think ’bout it.”
“Like the horse?”
Charlotte snorted to his left, but Arran maintained his attention on the little girl, who burst out laughing. “No, you don’t look nothin’ like a horse. You look like Prince Phillip!”
“You think so?”
“You even got the pretty wave in your hair too.”
Arran bit back a laugh. “An excellent trait of princes, I hear.”
“What I wouldn’t give to see arealprince, like Prince Phillip.” Mary’s nose wrinkled with her frown. “But Daddy says Santa don’t go granting wishes like that. And besides, Daddy says we ain’t got no use for princes back here in the mountains.”
Charlotte’s struggle with her grin gave way to a cough, which sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
“I asked for a prince for Christmas last year, and Miss Charlie said that’s what she’d wished for when she was my age. But shehad to find a new wish since Santa ain’t bent on stealing perfectly fine princes from other people’s houses and dropping them in the mountains.”
With this, Charlotte’s smile disappeared altogether, but Arran’s took on an entirely new power.
One of Charlotte’s childhood Christmas wishes had been for a prince?
Well, that little bit of information certainly deserved further investigation.
Perhaps—his smile stretched so wide, it pinched into his cheeks—Santa had been listening all along.
“I don’t know about that. Perhaps there’s a prince or two who need a good visit to the mountains in search of the perfect princess?”
Charlotte sent him a look, and he merely raised his brows in response.
She quickly turned back to Ginny.
“Naw, that can’t be so, Mr. Arran. Who’d go hiding a perfectly good princess back here in the mountains?”
“You never know, Mary.” Arran leaned close, watching Mary’s grin widen. “From my storybook reading, some of the best princesses are found in the most unlikely places.”
***
“Stop with the grin.”
Charlie refused to look at Arran as they drove down the mountain from the Lindseys’ house, her cheeks already on fire from Mary’s unintended revelation.
“Is my princely grin too much for you?”
“Arran.” She pulled the truck to a stop, hoping her voice held more conviction than the laugh tickling her throat. “I’m not against making a prince walk the rest of the way home.”
“This little bit of knowledge is rather rewarding, though, Charlotte.” One of his brows rose in unison with the corner of his smile as he tapped a finger to his lips. “May even prove Santa is still quite adept at his job, though a few years delayed.”
“Oh, hush!” She made to punch him in the shoulder, but he caught her hand, all humor leaving his face.
“We could start with a date.”
“A date?” Her bottom lip dropped. “What are you talking about?”
“You know, two people spending time together in a romantic sort of way, with the hope of spending more time together.”
A tingling sensation rushed through her body. “You and me?”
“That would bemypreference.”
