Together for Christmas (38 page)

At that, Kristen stopped in her tracks, midway to the back of the house. A pie inspired by Heather? A pie inspired by the same person who’d blatantly ignored all of Kristen’s wishes, gone behind her back to wrangle a deal she didn’t want, and made sure the whole world knew about it so that
Kristen
would look like the churlish one if it didn’t pan out? That kind of pie?

“No.” Kristen stalked back to the reserved booth where the journalist sat complacently waiting for her. “I don’t have a pie inspired by Heather,” she said. “Funny thing is, I don’t find people who ignore everything I want in life ‘inspiring.’”

The journalist gawked. The nearby customers did, too.

Avery stared at Kristen apprehensively. So did Gareth.

But as much as she knew she ought to, Kristen couldn’t stop to reassure them right now. Right now, she had a bigger problem to deal with. And while she wasn’t naming names, that problem’s initials were H.M. and rhymed with Feather Diller.

Casey arrived at the Galaxy Diner and pushed through the crowded entryway just in time to glimpse Kristen seated in his regular rented-and-reserved booth. Catching sight of that familiar RESERVED sign, Casey felt the usual sense of belonging kick in. He felt the usual sense of welcome wash over him. He felt . . .
right
. As Gareth and Avery spotted him and waved, Casey realized that this place really was like home to him.

The Galaxy Diner—and Kismet—were the homes he’d never had.

At the heart of them both was Kristen. Always Kristen.

Kristen, who—if Heather was right—actually
loved
him.

That was remarkable all by itself. It was something to be treasured and protected. So when Casey overheard the tail end of Kristen’s conversation with the smug-looking, legal-pad-toting woman who’d assumed Casey’s place in his booth, he felt instantly concerned. And worried. And relieved. All at once.

Because somehow, Kristen had found out about the baked-goods deal that Casey had brokered. And somehow, she’d (erroneously) assumed that Heather was behind it. So even though Kristen didn’t seem happy about the news—just as Heather had predicted—Casey realized that
he
could be off the hook. At least temporarily. At least long enough to make Kristen understand
why
he’d done what he’d done.

He had no doubt he could make her understand why he’d done what he’d done. That was his specialty, right? And he wanted to make sure that nothing threatened her feelings for him—at least not before they could grow stronger. So as Casey waited for Kristen to finish her conversation, as he listened to her saying,
I guess Heather is surprising me with a big-time distribution deal for Christmas,
the temptation to let Heather take the fall almost overwhelmed him.

Casey didn’t owe anything to Heather. After all, the pop diva had entered into that deal while knowing (according to her) that her sister would hate it. Casey could just . . . let Kristen go on believing it was all Heather’s fault. At least temporarily.

Because Heather had all but admitted steamrolling her sister into doing whatever she wanted. She’d probably never paid for those particular incidents. Casey could let Heather take the blame for this one screwup, and the cosmic scales would be balanced again. It was nothing less than Heather deserved.

The Terminator, Casey knew, would have done exactly that.

Funny thing is, I don’t find people who ignore everything I want in life “inspiring,”
Casey heard Kristen say next, having missed the intervening bits of conversation, and he knew that now was the time to act—for better or worse. Clearly, Kristen wasn’t feeling especially tolerant just at that moment.

Casting the woman in his booth a formidable look, Casey decided that she could be dealt with later. Right now, Kristen was striding toward her office in the back of her retro-gas-station-turned-diner with the sort of lean-hipped, purposeful motions that foretold—at least in her—a showdown in the offing. Casey didn’t want to miss his chance to be her hero . . . his chance to be there to comfort her and promise her he’d make it okay.

Trying to get into full-on Terminator mode, Casey followed her. As he did, he couldn’t help taking in Kristen’s posture and demeanor and even her long blond hair with a new sense of appreciation.
This
was the woman who loved him, he marveled.

This
was the woman
he
loved in return, even if he’d never admitted it to her. It was probably long past time to admit it.

He wasn’t at all sure he could.

With that troubling thought in mind, Casey kept going, past the familiar stainless-steel bedecked kitchen with its familiar cooks and bakers and waitstaff. He kept going while the familiar Christmas music serenaded him and while the blinking holiday lights tried their best to blind him. He kept going, feeling proud of Kristen’s fortitude and courage and gumption.

Even though she (apparently) hadn’t wanted this deal to happen, she seemed fully prepared to handle it straightforwardly now. On her own. Paradoxically, Casey admired her for that.

She was exactly the kind of woman he needed.

Now
he
had to be the kind of man she needed.

Which
wasn’t
the kind of man, Casey realized dimly and unhappily, who shirked responsibility for the things he’d done.

He managed to set aside that inconvenient fact long enough to duck inside Kristen’s office right behind her. When she turned around with her cell phone in her hand and storm clouds on her face, clearly intending to call her sister, he was there.

“Casey!” Kristen’s face cleared. “You came back!”

He couldn’t think why she’d believed he might not.

“Of course I did.” He shut the door behind them both. Then he took her in his arms and hugged her.

“Is everything all right?” She looked at him closely and lovingly, fueling his desire to make things work. She stepped back. “Are you okay? You look . . . kind of weird, at the moment.”

That’s because I love you,
Casey wanted to say. But his voice stuck on the words. His mind refused to free them.

“Everything’s fine,” he managed to say. “I’m fine.”

Thanks to her distracted state of mind, that was enough.

“Well, at least one of us is,” Kristen said, obviously still upset. “You won’t
believe
what my sister has done now.”

Then, as Casey gazed in wonder at her familiar and beloved face, he heard himself say something astonishing.

“It wasn’t your sister,” he said. “It was me.”

Kristen scoffed. “Very funny.” She looked down at her cell phone, already scrolling through menus. “It’s nice of you to try to work some troubleshooting magic between me and my sister, but I’m not falling for it. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Heather, it’s that she never fails to surprise me. No matter how many times she does something inconsiderate, she—”

“It was me,” Casey repeated, deliberately ignoring this tailor-made opportunity to blame the whole thing on her annoying pop diva sister. Hoping like hell that his charm would remain intact (and his heart and mind would properly sync up with his voice) while making a love declaration later—because he’d never done it before—he moved nearer. He took a deep breath. “I thought you’d like it,” he said. “I thought you needed it.”

Kristen quit dialing. She frowned. “Needed what?”

“Needed a deal with Torrance Chocolates. To solve your financial problems,” Casey said. “Hell, I spotted both of those bank reps outside the diner just now. It didn’t look like they were here to tell you your mortgage mix-up had been forgotten about.”

Her gaze skittered to her office door, then swerved back to him. “I didn’t tell you about my financial problems.”

“You didn’t have to. Everyone else did, almost from day one,” Casey said. “Not all at once, of course.” He offered a tentative grin, imagining her cadre of quirky friends stampeding to Casey’s special booth in the diner with stories of Kristen’s mistakenly “in-default” business mortgage. “Garth and Talia and Avery and Walden all came to me separately about it. They confided in me. You should have, too. I could have helped. I know people. Lawyers. Bankers. I have connections—”

“Connections that make deals with Torrance Chocolates?”

Her sharp tone almost made Casey’s heart stop. Maybe this wasn’t going to go as well as he’d expected. Maybe love
wasn’t
the cure-all his secretly hopeful heart believed it could be.

“I’ve already begun undoing it,” Casey said hastily in his own defense, holding up his hands. “Obviously, I can’t make a deal on your behalf without your cooperation—”

“Oh,
obviously,
” Kristen said sarcastically.

“—which means all I
really
did,” Casey went on, “is float a few rumors to a few of the right people. Get the ball rolling. Make inquiries. I’ve known Damon Torrance a long time, so he—”

Kristen’s expression changed. “You really
did
do this.” Her astonished gaze met his. She clenched her cell phone. “I thought you were just trying to calm me down, so I wouldn’t call Heather and say something I’d regret. But you weren’t, were you?”

The hurt in her voice nearly gutted him. So did the wounded look on her face. Even more concerned now, Casey stepped nearer.

“Like I said, I’m undoing it! Shane said you wanted it—”

“Right.” She narrowed her eyes. “You
totally
trust Shane.”

Casey didn’t know what to say to that. In retrospect, it sounded like lunacy. Should he tell Kristen that he’d been caught up in competing with his former best friend? That he’d wanted to win at all costs? That he’d sucked at gingerbread house building and paper snowflake cutting, and he just wanted to impress Kristen with the one thing he
could
do—make deals?

“I didn’t have anything else to give you,” Casey said. Because all he had left was the truth. And that was it. “On my own, I—”
I’m not enough,
he started to say, but the explanation got caught in his throat next to the
I love you
wedged there, and Casey found himself utterly unable to say anything more.

For the second time in his life, he was mute.

For the second disastrous time in his life, he couldn’t say anything that might save him. The first time, he’d been a kid, trying to get from his latest foster home to a
real
home. He’d been competing with Shane, trying to be chosen for adoption as one of two “hard-to-place” fifteen-year-olds, muffing the interview with a prospective family. When the big moment had come—when his original plan had unexpectedly dissolved—Casey hadn’t been able to find the right words to make it happen. Under pressure to cement his longed-for place in the world, he’d choked. He’d regretted it ever since.

But Kristen was too upset to listen anyway.

“Well, it looks like you were packing a hell of an attempt to turn me into Heather’s half-assed clone,” she interrupted, “complete with glitzy ads and a big-money bank account.”

Her aggrieved tone confused him. Casey shook his head. “You will
never
be your sister, Kristen,” he said impatiently. “Everyone else knows it. No one else expects it. So why can’t
you
see it? Why can’t you just stop trying so damn hard to—”

At the anguished expression on her face, he quit talking. He didn’t know what he’d said that was wrong, but he didn’t want to add to it. Determinedly, Casey clenched his jaw.

“Stop trying so hard to do what?” she broke in, waving her arm in obvious despair. “Be happy? Be successful? Be pretty and talented and beloved? Is it so unthinkable that I could do all those things without turning into Heather?”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s not unthinkable.”

“Just unlikely. Right?” With all the bravado typically at her command, Kristen stomped toward him. She put her hands on her hips in a confident pose, but her eyes were awash in misery. “Just admit it, Casey. You, of all people, can be straight with me. You were hoping you could make me more like Heather.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He pulled her into his arms. Holding her felt like cuddling with granite. “I’ve never wanted you to be like Heather.” The idea baffled him. “Why would I—”

“You could’ve fooled me,” Kristen interrupted coldly.

“I’m sorry,” Casey said. When in doubt, an apology was always a good idea. “This is all a big mistake. I should never—”

“You’re right. It
was
a mistake.” Kristen wrenched away from him. She looked up at him with teary eyes. “I thought you were different, Casey. I thought you wanted me for
me
.”

“I
do
want you for you!” Knowing how deeply that was true, Casey caught hold of her hand. He squeezed it, remembering all the times he’d touched her—all the times they’d laughed. “How did this get so out of control? I blew off work to come here—”

“Oh, that’s rich. Everyone knows Heather’s special is practically finished already. Tell me another one.”

“I’m unraveling a million-dollar deal for you—”

At that impressive figure, Kristen didn’t even blink. She took away her hand from his. “How much of that was your cut?”

“Huh?”

“You must have been owed a percentage for brokering the deal with Torrance Chocolates,” she went on with a stubborn jut of her chin. “For setting up ads with Heather and all the rest. If it had gone through like you planned, how much was your cut?”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t constructed that way.”

“Wow. I guess I have
everything
wrong, don’t I?”

Wary of her sarcastic-sounding statement, Casey nodded.

“You just wanted to do me a
favor,
didn’t you?”

Even more cautiously, Casey nodded again.

“And you really just
loved
me all along. Right?”

This time, Kristen’s words nearly leveled him.

For the third time, Casey nodded. His throat ached. His heart felt hollowed out and useless. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.”