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It felt like a bad idea, but it was too late to do anything about it.

“It looks magical.” His tone changed. “And you look incredible, too.”

“Thanks.” She smoothed the dress, self-conscious. “Brooke lent it to me. I only had my jeans and what I wore to the client’s. I wasn’t exactly prepared for Christmas celebrations, but she has everything because she packed for the whole trip.”

And she’s trying to set us up.

“You sparkle.”

“That’s probably the ‘snow’ from Mabel’s Christmas tree. Some of it might have transferred itself to my hair.”

He stepped closer and gently touched her hair with his fingers. She stood still, frozen to the spot with longing. The pull between them was so powerful she knew it would take almost nothing to close that gap, but still she resisted because she still wasn’t sure what she wanted. Just because there was a spark didn’t mean you had to do anything about it. Brooke had said it would be worth it, but that was easy to say because she and Matt had ended up together. Would she have said the same thing if Matt had chosen to walk away at some point? Would she still have thought it was worth it if she’d ended up with her heart broken? If Izzy’s own father hadn’t found anything in her to love, why would anyone else?

With that question in her head she stepped back, snapping the invisible thread that connected them.

“Did you manage to talk to Jess?” It was a normal question between friends. Factual. Light on emotion.

“Yes.” He let his hand drop. “I assured her that me giving her a gift after Christmas will be all the more fun.”

“Did she believe you?” Izzy was willing to bet that for Jess the real gift would have been having her uncle there, and for a moment she envied his family. They knew that he’d turn up when he could. That nothing but the very worst of winter storms would have kept him away from them. They knew he loved them.

“She pretended to be fine with it. I suspect my sister had given her a pep talk. It’s life, isn’t it? Doesn’t always go the way we plan, and all we can do is adapt.”

“Yes. Although I’m not sure I’ve ever been much good at that. I’ve always been a bit of a dreamer.”

“I know. I learned that about you when you started admiring a house with turrets every time we drove past.”

They were talking as if they had a normal, everyday friendship. As if they hadn’t once been as intimate as it was possible for two people to be. As if they hadn’t both spent the past couple of months thinking of that one summer night.

And she knew she had to say something. She couldn’t ignore it.

“I didn’t know about your sister and your niece. You never mentioned it.”

“If I’d known what you were thinking then I would have, but we haven’t had that many deep conversations, have we? We’re still learning about each other.” He gave a wry half-smile. “I didn’t know you had no real contact with your family and were going to be alone at Christmas until you made that phone call.”

Her heart was thudding. “What do you mean? I called them.”

“You called the local weather service.” His voice was gentle. “Which no doubt warned you about the hazards of accumulated snow and strong winds.”

He knew that?

Of course he knew that. There would have been a record of the call on his phone, which she would have deleted if she’d thought about it. But she hadn’t because she’d been in a panic. Hopefully, she’d never have to turn to a life of crime because she’d be terrible at it.

She felt exposed and embarrassed. “Okay, this is awkward.”

“Why didn’t you tell me. Why pretend?”

“Because if I’d told you the truth, you would have felt sorry for me, and I hate people feeling sorry for me. Also, when your family would rather you stayed away from their holiday celebrations it doesn’t exactly make you look good, does it? You’re probably wondering about all my secret flaws. You’re wondering what’s wrong with me.”

“No.” His voice was rough. “I’m wondering what’s wrong with them.”

She studied the place setting closest to her. Maybe it was time he knew the truth.

“My parents were in their first year of college when my mother found out she was pregnant. She was thrilled. She loved my dad. He didn’t feel the same way, but they got married anyway. And then my mother got sick. She died when I was seven.”

“You mentioned that in the car. And I’m sorry.”

“What I didn’t mention was that my father had been having an affair for the two years before that. And I knew.” It wasn’t something she’d ever talked about. Not to anyone. “I didn’t understand of course, but when my mother was in the hospital, Dad used to bring this woman to the house. He said she was a colleague and that she was helping him do some work from home.”