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December 17th
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING on?” his father barked.
Colson didn’t look up from his phone screen. For the plan to work, it helped to treat his father like an afterthought. If he wanted the chance to spend more nights with Blair, he needed to handle the obstacle in his way. The most effective move was to stand up to his father. It was also the riskiest. Colson had always stood his ground over work matters. Rarely had he fought his father over his personal life. Mostly because his personal life hadn’t mattered all that much. Until now.
His father marched up to him, his expensive shoes making no sound against the floor as he approached. “Did you hear what I said?”
Sure he had. But he’d been deliberately ignoring him. Relatively easy to do under the circumstances. Activity in the mansion’s foyer was complete chaos as a team of movers carried furniture out the front door. Colson had been overseeing the workmen’s progress for the past fifteen minutes. Not that his father would have noticed, because, as usual, his old man had shut himself in the study to get some work done.
Slowly, Colson dragged his gaze away from the phone to glance up at this father. “Want to repeat that?”
His father exhaled forcefully, huffing and puffing as his face reddened. “Why are all these people here?”
“Oh. That.” Colson shook his head and made a show of glancing back down to look through the notetaking app on his phone. He’d made note of the items to be taken today, so he wasn’t completely faking this. “You were right when you said that Ms. Hawthorne shouldn’t be handling all the heavy furniture, so I got in touch with a moving company. They’re going to transport some of Opal’s stuff to the Golden Age Antique Store.”
After leaving the historical society building yesterday, Colson had arranged for the first transport of antiques to Blair’s store. They’d worked it out through text messages and Colson had managed to get the moving company on short notice. Helpful considering that they’d both thought it best to move the items when Blair’s store was closed. It was already dark out and there weren’t any customers around to bother, so this was the ideal time.
“You’re still going through that Hawthorne woman’s store?” his father demanded.
“Yes. Blair Hawthorne’s antique store,” Colson said, sighing impatiently.
“We discussed this Colson. We agreed—”
“I didn’t agree to anything,” Colson said, cutting his dad off. “You bloviating for fifteen minutes isn’t an agreement. If you wanted an agreement, you should have gotten it in writing.”
Colson had tried to avoid insulting his father directly for the duration of their working relationship. But he was quickly reaching the end of his rope. After nearly ten years working alongside his old man, Colson’s patience was running out.
His father snarled. “You are not seriously allowing her to handle a project of this magnitude.”
“Ms. Hawthorne and I both signed a contract,” he said.
“Well, get out of it. I searched for her business on the internet. That place is a Mom and Pop shop at best,” his father said disdainfully. “Too small for a haul of this size.”
“That’s why we’re only moving some items today,” Colson said. “We’ll move the rest as Ms. Hawthorne makes sales. She’s already updated her website and social media with details so sales should start going soon. Your search on the internet should have clued you in.”
“Tear up the contract,” his father ordered.
There was a desperation in the old man’s voice that Colson had never heard before. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You’re the one who taught me to honor contracts.”
“Yes, contracts with serious businessmen,” his father said. “Not money-grubbing, small-town yokels. She is not a businesswoman. This is a bored woman’s hobby.”
“That’s enough. I know you’ve had everything handed to you, but most people have to start small. Ms. Hawthorne came by her success honestly,” Colson fired back.
His father’s cold blue eyes darkened. “Are you implying that I have not come by my success honestly?”
“I’m saying that unlike Ms. Hawthorne, you got handed that success,” Colson answered, barely able to contain his anger. “She’s earned everything she has. You merely inherited your money.”
“As did you,” his father threw back.
“For once, you’re right, Dad. Neither of us has ever earned anything in our lives. Which means neither of us has the right to judge Blair,” Colson said, knowing full well he’d done just that when he’d first met her. Yet thankfully, he was starting to learn how dedicated and tenacious Blair was. If anyone could make a small business thrive, it was her.
His father crossed his arms. “Oh, so it’s still Blair is it? Going to insist on being on a first-name basis with her?”
Colson was prepared to fire back, but the shouts of the workmen from the living room made him pause. He turned from his father to stride over into the living room where the movers had gathered to retrieve the chairs that Colson had lined up near the fireplace. The commotion wasn’t an argument like he’d thought. Thankfully, the movers were just loud talkers.
One of the laborers stepped up to the tree, scratching his jaw as he inspected it. “Hey, boss, are we taking the tree too?” he asked loudly.
“What, are you an idiot?” one of his colleagues demanded. “You think we’re here to transport a decorated Christmas tree?”
“Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing we’ve ever had to move,” the worker next to the tree said with a shrug.
His colleague sighed loudly. “Look, forget about the tree. These chairs aren’t gonna move themselves, so get going.”
As the team hauled the chairs out of the living room, Colson’s father appeared beside him, looking eager to resume their argument.
“Save it,” Colson said, before his dad had the chance to start up again. “The contract’s been signed. I’m not going to tell Ms. Hawthorne that I’m breaking my word because my father told me to.”
“I’ve a good mind to tell these men to take the tree with them,” his father muttered angrily.
“You’re not paying them,” Colson said through gritted teeth. “I am.”
His father looked across the room at the tree. Colson had already turned the lights on like had been doing every evening since Blair had helped him put it up.
“You decorated that tree yourself?” his father asked.
He knew it was best to lie, but he couldn’t. Her assistance with the tree meant too much to him. “I got help.”
“Ms. Hawthorne again?”
Colson felt his chest tighten as he thought of her. “Yeah.”
His father heaved out a sigh. “You’d rather spend your Christmas with that woman?”
“What?” Colson stopped to glance at his father. If he didn’t know any better, he could swear the older man looked...well, sad. Lonely. Diminished. As if it was killing him to acknowledge a single tree. “Don’t worry. Blair and I don’t have that kind of relationship.”
Not anymore, a voice in his head taunted. Maybe they’d never had that kind of relationship. Hard to imagine that they’d been able to put up a tree together within days of knowing each other, but now they were so far apart, that spending Christmas with her felt impossible.
“You and I could do something for Christmas Day,” his father said stiffly. “A father and son event.”
Had his father lost his mind?
Colson’s mouth fell open. All his life, his parents had treated the holidays like an opportunity to glad hand Boston’s business community. They regarded Christmas Day itself as a chore. Something to endure on the one day they couldn’t peddle influence or make more money. There was nothing sentimental about this time of year for his family. Servants decorated and his parents grudgingly, but politely hosted their extended family. Gifts were interchangeable items chosen by assistants. So, while family was present, it had never been an opportunity for any of the Bennetts to actually bond. They ate food none of them could actually cook themselves and when they did talk, they talked business. That was it.
“A father and son event?” Colson repeated, still stunned.
His father avoided his gaze and put his hands in his pockets. “Something to do. Better than idling around here doing nothing.”
“You’ll be back in Boston by then.”
“And leave my only son in this mansion all alone on Christmas Day?” His father shook his head. “No. That would be a travesty.”
“You really don’t have to do that,” Colson said.
“No, no, I want to,” his father said, though from the strain in his voice, it actually sounded like the last thing he wanted to do.
“What about Mom? You’re going to leave her all alone for Christmas?” Colson asked.
“She’ll hardly be alone. Between the Bennetts and her side of the family appearing, she won’t even notice our absence,” his father said glumly. “And half of her social circle will drop by anyway.”
His father was right about that. Colson’s mother was much more concerned with keeping up appearances and lording her outwardly perfect life over high society. Even among elites there was a hierarchy, and the Bennetts were at the top. His mother might as well have been the queen of Boston. She was born into old money and then married into even older money. Her pedigree was impeccable—something she never let anyone forget. If Colson or his father were absent for Christmas, she’d hardly notice. And even if she did, she’d brush over the momentarily slight by acting like her husband and her son were working on some business that was too important to make an appearance during Christmas. She’d add a few hints about the family mansion in rural Massachusetts by sharing photos of the lavish residence and that would be enough to placate the upper crust. She’d wrapped them all around her finger well enough.
So, there was no use arguing the point with his father, and truthfully, he was willing to spend the day with the old man because Colson knew that it would make Blair happy. This was what she’d wanted for him. A chance to connect with his family.
If it wasn’t for her influence, Colson would have refused his father’s offer and sent the old man on his way back to Boston. Because too much emotional distance had built up over the years. But her happiness meant something to him. Frankly, at that moment, it meant everything to Colson. Putting a smile on her face was the only gift he wanted this holiday, corny as that sounded.
“Fine,” Colson conceded. “We can celebrate Christmas.”
***
BLAIR WAS SO DISTRACTED by her thoughts that she almost tripped over the newly arrived nineteenth century rocking chair on her way to the front desk.
“Whoa, careful,” her brother, Kyle cautioned as he rushed up to her.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Are you?” Kyle sounded concerned. Which was never good because her older brother typically made fun of her whenever she almost face-planted.
“I’m okay,” she said, trying to reassure him. “I’m good.”
“Maybe you’re working too hard,” her brother said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She had been working all evening, the same as her brother. Ever since the movers had arrived with the first collection of furniture from the Bennett mansion several hours ago. With her brother’s help, she’d worked hard to put that first set of antiques on display around the shop, and now the movers had returned with the second and final set for the evening, the last set of chairs.
Fatigue started to set in. She felt it in her shoulders. Blair couldn’t remember the last time she’d worked this hard. Ordinarily, she would have been excited about getting such an incredible set of antiques, but she’d been distracted by thoughts of Colson all day. Moving furniture around hadn’t helped her overcome her misery.
You’re worth everything, Blair.
She had replayed those words over and over in her mind. What had he meant by that? He couldn’t possibly have made that declaration in a romantic context. Sure, Colson was attracted to her. Their incredible night together confirmed that. But one night didn’t mean much to someone like him. At best it was just a fling. Something fun and temporary that had already run its course. So why was she fretting over it?
Because even though it might have been a fun, yet insignificant fling to Colson, to Blair it meant so much that she hadn’t been able to breathe all day. When he’d arrived yesterday to sign the contract, she’d basically told him that there couldn’t be a repeat of their night together. It had been the right thing to do because she knew that since Colson was currently grieving, he needed his family by his side. Doing the right thing, however, didn’t feel good at all. She’d been nursing what felt like heartache ever since and her holiday blues had returned, casting a dark cloud over everything.
If only they had met under different circumstances. If only he lived here in town. If only he didn’t have a rich family who would disapprove of her. If only he cared about her the way she cared about him.
Blair sighed, doing her best to shake off her lousy mood. This was a time to celebrate. Wallowing wasn’t going to do her any good. Besides, she’d been holding a pity party for herself all day. “I guess I should take a break, but there’s still so many things left to arrange.”
“Let me help,” Kyle offered.
“No, you’ve helped enough already,” she said, waving him off. “I’ll go see to the movers.”
She momentarily left Kyle to thank the movers before the truck drove away, then she maneuvered through the maze of antiques she hadn’t set up yet to resume speaking to her brother.
“Got quite a haul here,” Kyle said.
Blair nodded. “I’ve been sending photos and copies of authentication documents to the appraiser. Based on everything we’ve seen, this is quite a treasure trove.”
At that moment, she heard a knock on the shop’s glass entrance. Her traitorous heart jumped. It was Colson, standing out front holding an enormous box in his hands. Without pausing to think about how giddy she probably looked, Blair rushed up to the entrance and flung the door open for him. She hadn’t expected to see him tonight since they’d been making plans via text. Now that he was here, she felt her pulse quicken at the sight of him.
“Thanks,” Colson said confidently striding into the shop like he was an expected guest. “So, you’ve got the first shipment.”
“Yes. Thank you for handling the moving company,” she said.
Colson slowed down when he noticed her brother.
Her face flushed as she quickly realized she’d now have to introduce a guy to her brother. That hadn’t happened in a long time, making her feel like she was back in high school. Awkward and desperate to get her new crush as far away from her loudmouth family members as humanly possible.
“Uh, Colson, this is my brother Kyle,” she said, rushing between them to make hasty introductions. “Kyle, this is Colson Bennett.”
Colson leaned down to set the box on the floor then extended his hand. “Good to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Kyle stuck his hand out to shake Colson’s. “Colson Bennett, huh? Blair, isn’t this the guy you said you li—”
“My brother was just leaving,” Blair interrupted with a deranged laugh. She was so embarrassed that the laughter just burst out of her. This was even more awkward than she’d anticipated. Cutting her brother a warning look, she rushed up to Kyle to start shoving him away from Colson. “Come on, Kyle, time to go.”
“Hey, wait a minute. I was just trying to get to know the guy,” her brother protested.
“You can be friendly another time.” She shoved him out the door.
“See ya, Colson,” Kyle yelled good-naturedly over his shoulder.
Gnashing her teeth, Blair marched her brother to his car.
“What’s the matter?” Kyle asked. “Trying to get rid of me so you can make out with your boyfriend in private?”
Blair rolled her eyes. “You are such a child sometimes.”
“There’s mistletoe hanging over Hammond’s Bookshop entrance if you need a little push,” Kyle said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively before he opened the car door.
“Go home, Kyle,” she ordered.
“All right, all right, I’m going. Chill out.” Her brother threw his hands up, feigning wounded pride. “And you better text me when you get home safe. Otherwise, I’m gonna break that Colson guy’s legs. He seems like a good guy right now, but you should warn him that I’ve got a baseball bat at home.”
“For heaven’s sake.” Exasperated, Blair pushed her brother into the driver’s seat. “I’ll text. But you had better not tell Sam or Tony or Dad about this.”
Kyle threw his head back, guffawed, and then sped off.
She sighed in despair. Kyle laughing his head off was a sign that he had no intention of keeping quiet about this. Within the hour, her whole family would know that Colson had stopped by her store. Grumbling in irritation, she headed back into the store, where she found Colson down on one knee, opening the cardboard box he’d brought with him.
“What’s all this?” she asked, suddenly feeling shy as she approached him. Blair had seen him just yesterday, but for some reason it felt like they’d been apart for ages. She was so excited to be in his presence that she could scarcely breathe.
He looked up at her, his dark, wavy hair falling over his eyes. “More of my great-grandmother’s stuff. It’s mostly breakable items, which is why I thought I’d bring them myself.”
“Oh, wow.” She leaned forward to look into the box. All the items inside were protectively wrapped in newspaper, so she’d have to unwrap everything to see what he’d brought.
“There are more boxes of this stuff back at the mansion,” he informed her.
“Great. Thanks for bringing these. Some of them should fit on the display table over there,” she said, pointing.
“You’ve been working for hours, I’ll bet,” he said, retrieving one of the items. “Why don’t you sit down? Take a load off?”
“You sound like my brother,” she said.
“Guess, we’re both trying to look out for you,” he said.
That made her heart flutter. They were supposed to be acting like professionals, but that felt like an impossible task when he said things like that.
“Really, I can’t afford to take a break,” she said. “There’s still so much to do.”
“You can’t do it alone.”
“Well, my brother already helped out. And even though I wish I could ask Nancy for help,” she said, referring to the antique shop’s sometime assistant, “I can’t ask her to move heavy furniture after she’s on her feet all day at the coffee shop.”
Colson stood up to his full imposing height, then placed his hand on the small of her back to gently steer her towards one of the wingback chairs the movers had delivered earlier. “I’ll help.”
“You’re a client. I couldn’t possibly...” She lost her train of thought when she felt the heat of his large hand through the fabric of her clothes. His fingers pressed against her, firmly, and yet so gently, that she almost let out a dreamy sigh. Luckily, she caught herself in time as he guided her.
“Colson, I can’t. I’ll ruin the chair,” she protested.
“A delicate thing like you? Nah.” He stepped back to unwrap the item he’d been holding. As the newspaper fell away, she saw the Art Nouveau-style lamp. She gasped. It was beautiful. A stunning piece of art in perfect condition. With the utmost care, Colson placed the lamp on the nearby display table. “You know, you and my great-grandmother are the only people I’ve seen get genuinely excited over a lamp.”
She laughed. “If you’ve brought any teapots, I’ll be even more thrilled.”
“As a matter of fact, there was something that resembled a teapot. Or was it a gravy boat?” His eyebrows came together as he stared down at the box, a boyish, questioning look on his face.
Blair laughed again, her heart feeling lighter. Maybe she really did need a break. “Either way, I could put all the kitchen items on the shelf back there.”
“Nope. I’ve got this.” Colson started to take off his jacket, then he placed it on top of the box. Heat crept up her face when she realized she was staring at him and remembering what it was like to see him get completely undressed. He’d only removed one article of clothing, yet her she was, practically ogling him.
“First, I’m going to set up the rest of the furniture,” he continued.
Face still burning, she glanced over at the furniture that had been haphazardly placed close to the store entrance. Her shoulders did ache a little from arranging the first set earlier. “Are you sure?”
“Sit down, Blair,” he said sternly, his gravelly voice making her tremble.
Well, she wasn’t going to argue when he used that tone, so she did as she was told, and sank into the wingback chair. Gosh it felt good to have some kind of cushion against her back. The chair was sturdy, yet comfortable. She shut her eyes, releasing an exhale, the softness of the chair upholstery already alleviating the tension in her shoulders. This was exactly what she’d needed and she hadn’t even realized it.
When she opened her eyes, she found that Colson was already carrying an 18th century marble bust like it weighed nothing. From her place on the chair, she directed him to put the bust on the counter where she displayed all the sculptures. As he set the marble down, Blair found herself staring at him again. Even though he was wearing a heavy sweater, he had rolled up his sleeves and she could still see the muscles in his powerful forearms. Still see the way his chest and back muscles flexed beneath all that fabric.
Desire set her body on fire, forcing her to bite her lip so she didn’t do something stupid like whimper or sigh longingly.
Even though she was dreading his answer no matter what response he gave, Blair decided to ask about his father. That was the topic that would remind her that she had to stick to professional duty, no matter how much she wanted a repeat of their night together.
“How’s your dad handling the big move?” she asked, bracing herself. For what she wasn’t quite sure. If Colson’s father had accepted their working relationship, that would mean that she needed to stick to it so that she wouldn’t offend the Bennetts. But if his father hadn’t accepted her services, then she was still driving a wedge between father and son—something she couldn’t accept. Either way, her hopes would be dashed regardless. Blair couldn’t have him, even if his family accepted her services.
Colson shrugged. “He’s not too happy about it, but when is he ever happy?”
“I take it he still doesn’t like or trust me.”
He returned to the assortment of furniture to pick up a chair. “He’s judging someone he knows nothing about. He hasn’t even met you.”
“Fathers can be protective,” she said softly.
Colson gave a derisive snort. “Real model father, my old man.”
“Is he really so bad?” she asked, wanting to understand. Despite her own father driving her crazy with his constant meddling in her love life, Blair adored her dad. Although, if she was being honest with herself, she was pretty sure that she was a disappointment to him. That made her heart hurt, so she forced herself to put those thoughts out of her mind.
“I don’t know,” Colson grunted as he set the chair down. “Most days he’s a jackass, but today, he was...weird.”
“Weird how?”
“He asked to celebrate Christmas with me,” he said.
Her eyes widened and suddenly, the ache in her heart subsided. “What? Colson, that’s amazing!”
Colson returned to the pile of furniture. “Amazing or suspicious?”
Frowning, Blair crossed her arms. “Wanting to celebrate the holidays is suspicious now?”
“My father hates the holidays,” Colson said. “Hates. He thinks it’s all a sentimental waste of time. The only reason he ever joins in is to make business deals.”
“He hates the holidays, but he loves you,” she said.
Colson was once again lugging furniture across the store. “Doubt that. The old man’s heart is made of ice. Besides, he’s never cared about spending time with his family. Why start now?”
“Maybe it is a little out of character,” she conceded. “But he lost his grandmother this year. That might have melted that icy heart a little.”
Another snort. He continued moving furniture, while Blair tried not to feel guilty about taking a break.
Finally, after some silence, she asked, “Have you considered getting a present for your dad?”
“I’m sure one of my assistants is taking care of that as usual,” he said.
“Yes, but how about something from the heart?” she suggested. “You said you rarely get those types of gifts. Wouldn’t it be great to give your father something you put thought into?”
“I’m getting you a gift, remember? As a thank you for all your help.”
“Yes, I remember,” she said softly, thinking back to the day she’d helped him put up the Christmas tree at his place. They’d agreed to exchange gifts. As friends. “There was a hundred dollar minimum.”
“We never specified an amount. You just said to keep it reasonable,” he reminded her.
She could just imagine what a rich guy like Colson thought was reasonable. Blair just hoped that between his father’s arrival and trying to sell the antiques, Colson wouldn’t find the time to do something crazy.
“A pair of socks is fine by me,” she hinted.
He pushed a mahogany desk against a wall. “Does any of this stuff need to be restored?” he asked, seeming to ignore Blair’s hint.
“I chose everything that was in good shape for the first couple of sets,” she told him. “That way, we can get a professional to do the restorations at the mansion. There are a couple in the area that I’ve worked with before. They’re excellent. Pretty sure we can get them to start after the holidays.”
“Wonder if they’d need a hand,” he said. “I used to love fixing stuff at Opal’s house. I liked getting my hands dirty. Haven’t done much of that kind of work in years though.”
“I suspect there isn’t much time for that in an office setting,” she said.
“No, there definitely isn’t. My family used to be builders, but we handle commercial real estate now,” he said.
Since he’d brought up the family business, she decided to ask about the company. Mostly so she could hear his low, deep voice while she settled back in the comfortable chair. As he spoke, his rich baritone lulled her to sleep.
And then, she felt his gentle hand on her shoulder. Her eyes opened slowly.
“Now that I’ve moved everything, I’m going to drive you home,” he said.
She didn’t bother to tell him that she could drive her own car home. The truth was, the distance between her apartment and her shop was so short, she could easily walk if she really wanted to. Which she usually did in the summer anyway.
Yawning, she allowed him to help her get up. Then, she quickly closed up shop and followed him to his car so he could drive her home. Once he pulled the car up, he got out of the driver’s seat to help her out of the car and walk her up to apartment building entrance.
“Thanks,” she said.
“No problem.” He lingered for a second, jamming his hands into his pockets. Colson looked like he wanted to say something further. Suddenly, there was a tension between them. Heavy enough for her to feel a spark of anticipation. She shivered, wondering if he’d ask to come inside. Against all sense and reason, Blair hoped that he would. But another silent moment passed, and then, he shook his head as if he thought better of it, kissed her gently on the cheek, and jogged back to his car.
With the heat of his lips still on her skin, she watched him drive away. Eventually, she couldn’t hear the car engine anymore and as the silence enveloped her, she couldn’t help feeling like she’d been left out in the cold.
