Simon grinned. “Right. See, that’s how you know how you feel about somebody. When the thought of them with someone else makes you crazy.”
She groaned. “I should probably apologize to Mitch.”
“Yep.”
“And I should mean it.”
“Uh huh.” He glanced out the back window. “You might want to head out now. The snow is coming down faster. I’ll stay with Aunt Nora tonight.”
“She might be busy.”
“On a Sunday night? No way.” He called his aunt, and she said no problem. “There. I’m good.”
“Fine. I guess I’ll drive to Mitch’s. But what if he won’t see me?”
“Then you try again tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.” Simon liked the idea of Mitch in his life. But more, he liked seeing how happy Mitch made his mom. The pair together just feltright.So he said the one thing he knew would put her over. “Dad would like him.”
She smiled and wiped her eyes again. “Yeah, I think so too.”
******
But Mitch wouldn’t see her Sunday night. Or Monday. Or Tuesday.
By Wednesday, Becca had had enough. She called Deacon and told him to make sure Mitch stayed put at his house and opened the door to let her in this time. “Look. I love him; he loves me. We have some things to work out.”
“You’re damn right you do,” Deacon growled over the phone. “My brother is down, woman. Make it right.”
“I will if he’ll let me. Your brother won’t talk to me. I’ve been trying since Sunday.”
Deacon sighed. “You must have really hurt him. He never goes into quiet mode unless it’s a huge deal. Come on. I’ll make sure you get in.”
Becca took time off from work. Simon and Jenna gladly filled in. Nora warned her to pull out all the stops. Seduction, apologies, begging. Because Becca was an idiot who should never have been so neurotic as to throw away a shot at true love a second time.
“Hell. I can’t find one decent guy. You’re on number two.” Nora smiled. “Stop being such a dork and grab him. Or I’ll tell Linda he’s back up for grabs.”
Now Becca wore her favorite Christmas skirt, a form-hugging red sweater, and the earrings Neal had given her for their first anniversary. Tiny gold hoops studded with diamonds. The earrings hadn’t been too expensive, but they looked nice and made her feel special. And they reminded her of how much she’d loved.
And still did.
She parked in Mitch’s driveway, glad to see Deacon’s car there. She was poised to ring the bell when Deacon opened the door and tugged her inside.
“H-hello.”
“Fix it.” He left without saying goodbye. She heard his car start and drive way. But no Mitch.
She walked into the house and heard nothing but silence. A fire crackled in the hearth in the living area. Christmas decorations filled the space, but it still felt empty.
Then she heard a whine and saw a dog streak by.
A dog?
Becca followed the click of nails down the hallway toward the conservatory. Nerves filled every step, as did regret. Replaying their conversation over and over, she realized she’d overreacted. Yes, he should have told her about buying the space before he had. It was her business, after all, and clear communication might have stopped her from making the wrong assumption.
But his heart had been in the right place. He’d told her son he loved her. Had thought about her every step of the way in their relationship. It was time she did the same.
She found him sitting in the conservatory on the couch, one ankle crossed over his knee, a book in hand. On the table before him, a mug of something steamed. And on the floor on a cozy doggy bed lay a black and white dog. Behind him, by the window, a grand Christmas tree sparkled with ribbon, red glass ornaments of all shapes and sizes, and white twinkling lights. Around the tree, pots of flowers had been artfully arranged. The scene looked like her Christmas dreams come true, the man she loved all but done up in a bow.
Mitch glanced up and blinked in surprise. “Becca?”
The dog wagged its tail but stayed next to Mitch.
She took him in, his dark hair, mussed. His deep gray eyes, wary. The jeans and Packers sweatshirt made him more, not less, intimidating. He was a man who knew his worth and had nothing to prove, while she hadeverythingto prove.
His expression closed, and he placed the book down, a bookmark keeping his place.
“The Civil War?” she asked.
“I like history. Studying battles. Past mistakes.” He shot her a cool look. “We can learn so much from it.”
Oh boy. Did she have some groveling to do.
