Beautiful couple. I stared at the bathroom stall door and tried to decide if I felt flattered or terrified by the designation. Probably both.
“I always thought Holly would end up with someone handsome,” added Sandra. “She’s got such a lovely figure, and that red dress tonight—stunning! She knows how to show off her assets.”
I looked down at my red dress, which did indeed show off my assets quite nicely. I’d chosen it specifically because it made me feel confident and attractive, because I wanted to look good whether or not Declan noticed. The problem was that Declan had definitely noticed, and now everyone else had noticed him noticing, and suddenly my personal confidence choices had become public entertainment.
“Declan’s smitten,” Mrs. Patterson continued with the authority of someone who’d been observing romantic developments in Everdale Falls for approximately sixty years. “You can tell by the way he looks at her—like she’s the only person in the room.”
“Well, she is gorgeous,” Sandra said matter-of-factly. “Some women just know how to carry themselves, you know?”
I did know how to carry myself. I’d always been confident in my appearance, comfortable in my own skin in ways that Derek had tried to undermine. The problem wasn’t how I looked or how I felt about how I looked—the problem was that I’d just kissed someone in front of the entire community and now everyone was going to expect us to be together.
“I heard he’s on some kind of sabbatical from his fancy law job,” Sandra said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Rebecca at the bank mentioned he’s been asking about local real estate.”
Local real estate. As if Declan was planning to stay permanently, as if our public kiss was part of some grand romantic gesture rather than a moment of temporary insanity brought on by mistletoe and winter weather.
“Oh,” Mrs. Patterson drew it out as if this was news to her. “Holiday home?”
Silence.
Either Sandra was ignoring Mrs. Patterson, or she shrugged because she didn’t know.
Stall doors banged shut, and the sounds of peeing women surrounded me. I made a fuss of making a noise, unzipping my coat and zipping it back up so it didn’t sound like I was standing here eavesdropping, or like a deer in headlights after that kiss.
That kiss.
Fuck.
Derek had kissed me like that once. In public, at a work party, making a show of claiming me in front of our colleagues while privately making me feel like I should be grateful for his attention. The memory made the sweetness of Declan’s kiss feel complicated, tainted by the possibility that I was once again misreading someone’s motivations.
Flushes occurred, and I drew in a breath of relief as the sounds of washing hands and hand dryers blasted out.
The bathroom door opened again, and I heard the click of high heels on tile.
“Holly?” It was Mrs. Hall’s voice, warm with maternal concern. “Honey, are you in here?”
I considered pretending I wasn’t there, but Mrs. Hall had supernatural abilities when it came to locating people who were hiding from social situations.
“I’m here,” I said, with a mental curse, unlocking the stall door and emerging to face the assembled group of women who were all looking at me with expressions ranging from maternal pride to romantic satisfaction.
“We wanted to check on you,” Mrs. Hall said gently. “That was quite a public moment out there.”
“It was mistletoe,” I said weakly, as if that explained everything about my temporary loss of sanity.
“It was beautiful,” Mrs. Patterson corrected firmly, not in the least bit embarrassed to have been caught gossiping. “And that young man looks at you like you hung the moon, dear. Nothing wrong with a little public romance, especially at Christmas.”
“But what if it’s not...” I started, then stopped, because I wasn’t sure how to articulate my fears to women who were all looking at me like I’d just fulfilled their collective romantic fantasies.
“What if it’s not what?” Sandra asked kindly.
“What if it’s not real?” I said finally. “What if I’m just... convenient? Or grateful? Or making the same mistakes I made before?”
The women exchanged looks, and I realized I’d just voiced my deepest insecurities to the Everdale Falls gossip network, which meant everyone in town would know about my relationship anxieties by morning.
“Holly,” Mrs. Hall said gently, “honey, have you seen the way that man looks at you?”
“I’ve seen the way men look at me when they want something,” I said, probably more bitterly than I intended.
“No,” Sandra said firmly. “You’ve seen the way terrible men looked at you when they were using you. Declan Hayes isn’t them, and you know the difference even if you’re scared to trust it.” The way she said this made me wonder if she knew aboutDerek. Had my mom been telling the whole town about my woes?
