“You don’t have a Christmas tree even though you sell them?”
The question pulled a nervous huff from her, and she tucked her fingers into her rear pant pockets to keep from wringing them like a rag. “My mom usually does, but—I haven’t bothered with it.”
“I thought the last few days had helped you find some of that missing holiday spirit,” he murmured, his gaze locking on hers.
The heat she spied in his eyes left her belly fluttering even as her heart shriveled up that final inch. She’d forgotten about Rhys’s determination to bolster her flagging holiday spirit. He’d considered it a challenge, and if she’d learned nothing else about him, he took on challenges with his mind set to win them.
She’d made it all too easy, lapping up every ounce of his attention like Cinderella sweeping up all those ashes.
“We should fix your tree situation.”
“The new load will be here tomorrow. I’ll have more trees than you can shake a candy cane at.” She pointed to the table. “I’ll snag one and put it there. It’s fine.”
“Good. Until then, you can put this on the table. But no opening it until Christmas.”
He stuck a hand in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a beautifully wrapped package.
“You bought me a present?”
“Just a little something that reminded me of you.”
She sank her teeth into her plump lower lip and hesitantly took the gift he still held out for her. “Thank you, but you shouldn’t have. I know you’re… I know you’re trying to boost my holiday spirit, but I don’t expect gifts.”
His expression warmed and softened, and the sight of it left her breathing shallow.
“Sweet Sara, let’s go have fun, yeah?”
It seemed important to him and because it was her last day before chaos descended and her time with him disappeared like that burst of crackling firework, she nodded. “Yeah.”
ChapterFifteen
Rhys decided that evening that he was indeed a very selfish man. The business meetings he’d had to get through earlier that day had been with Everett Drake.
Research had shown Rhys that Drake’s beautiful wife, Isabel, and Sara had more than a few things in common, so when Drake had issued a dinner invitation for the future, he’d countered with getting together that very evening.
He wasn’t a patient man, and he felt his time with Sara slipping through his fingers. She’d want to leave Carolina Cove the moment the lot closed, to go be with her parents in their time of need—as she should—but he didn’t want the decision to be easy for her.
The evening went well, though he’d sensed Sara’s nervous panic when they’d first arrived at the couple’s seaside home.
Sara had shot him a few daggers when he’d explained the situation, and he’d apologized for the short notice and not telling her sooner, but he also wasn’t sorry since he hadn’t wanted Sara to worry over dinner with strangers.
As he’d suspected, Sara and Isabel instantly hit it off, and after dinner, they’d settled in to chat about art and design since Isabel was an up-and-coming painter. He boldly eavesdropped, listening to Sara shyly explain her desire to write and illustrate children’s books.
“Not your usual type, from what I understand.”
Drake’s low murmur as he prepared to make his next play on the billiard table drew Rhys’s attention back to the man. “So I’ve been told.”
Everett smirked and nailed the shot. “She and Isabel have a lot in common. Smart move bringing her to meet and see how it can be done.”
Rhys grunted out a sound but never took his eyes off the ladies. “Am I that obvious?”
“Only to someone who’s been there.”
Rhys shifted his attention to the man across the table from him. “Any advice?”
Everett snagged the chalk and focused on his pool cue. “You can give her whatever she wants, but if she’s anything like Isabel, what she wants is the real man. That’s what makes them both terrifying and perfect.”
A low chuckle rumbled out of Rhys at the man’s words, and he nodded. Sara wasn’t artificial, and Drake’s words reenforced his own thoughts about her.
