I’ll Be Home for Christmas
Much to Rosie’s sorrow, Clint stood up. “Your hair is pretty, Ava.” He didn’t really intend to voice his observation out loud. “I like that you’ve gone back to your natural color.”
“Much better without the fake spray snow.”
“That’s what that stuff was?” His eyes widened.
“I read the label, Clint. It clearly said it was nontoxic,” she replied in a defensive tone.
“So was the Kool-Aid that you used to dye your hair red for that Halloween party. You had pink hair for about a month.”
“Hey, pink hair is in style now. I was just ahead of my time.”
Clint laughed. “Your mom was so mad.”
“I had extra chores until the pink Kool-Aid came all the way out. I took three showers a day and got into even more trouble when I used up too much water from the cistern.” When she tipped her head to the side and laughed, Clint felt her guard slipping. Something in the air shifted, changed, taking them backward and yet forward at the same time.
“I brought the cookies from the bakery.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Clint took a step closer to her. “I know. It was an excuse to see you.”
“Clint, I—” she began, but when he saw protest in her eyes, he pulled her closer and kissed her. He felt her stiffen slightly, but when he cradled her head and deepened the kiss, he felt her relax and melt against his chest.
Clint ran the tip of his tongue over her full bottom lip, tasting, savoring, and teasing until he heard her soft moan asking for more. He threaded his fingers through her hair and kissed her again slowly, lingering until he finally pulled away to look into her eyes. He wanted to say something flirty, clever, but he was too blown away by his reaction, and emotion clogged his throat.
She swallowed, licked her bottom lip. “You kissed me,” she said softly. Clint got the impression she wanted to sound accusatory but she failed, sounding more like she felt a sense of wonder.
He tilted his head and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You kissed me back, Ava.”
“You took me by surprise.” She frowned slightly. “I . . . I . . . got caught up in the moment. Why did you do it?”
Clint rubbed the pad of his thumb over her chin. “Because I wanted to kiss you from the moment I saw you . . . even in that Mrs. Claus outfit.”
She glanced down, swallowed hard but then tilted her head up and looked him square in the eye. “No, Clint. I meant why did you leave Cricket Creek instead of coming back here to live?”
Oh, that was such a loaded question. Clint had answers and she deserved to know them, but they stuck in his throat.
Ava took a step back and came up against the sink. “Was it that easy for you? A clean break?”
“Ava . . .” he began, and she looked at him expectantly but he couldn’t go on.
“I guess it was.” She lifted her chin and shoved past him.
“Ava!” He gently grabbed her arm.
She shook him off, but when he failed to leave, she slowly turned around. “I waited, you know. Hoped . . .” she began but trailed off and shook her head.
“I’m so sorry.”
Ava looked at him for a long measuring moment and then shrugged. “We were young. And you had an offer you couldn’t refuse. I get that.” Ava’s voice shook, but when Rosie trotted over and sat down by her side, she seemed to somehow draw strength from the little dog and get her emotions under control. After a deep breath, she said, “But when you didn’t return, I went on with my life, Clint. And I’m doing well. It’s not fair for you to come back here and wreck it.”
“That’s not my intention.”
She blinked as if fighting back tears, and it clawed at his gut. “Then stay away, Clint. You had your chance with me.” Her tone wasn’t harsh or unkind but firm. “Please.”
“What if I want another chance with you, Ava?” He took a step closer.
Ava stood her ground but lifted her chin and looked him square in the eye. “You waited too long.”
Clint nodded solemnly and then shoved his fingers through his hair. “Okay. I understand how you must feel. But you don’t know everything. There’s more to this than meets the eye. Look, I know you have to get downstairs, but we need to get together. I want to explain some things.” He felt the door that had opened earlier about to slam in his face. He shouldn’t have given in to the moment and kissed her.
“You had fifteen years to do that, Clint. You could have looked me up when you came into town to visit your father. But you didn’t.”
“I know.” He nodded again. “I understand how you must feel, but I’d welcome the chance to get together and talk about it.”
At Ava’s stony silence, Clint turned and walked away. When he reached the doorway, he paused and turned around. “There’s still a spark between us, Ava. Don’t deny it.”
She swallowed but remained silent.
Clint shoved his fingers through his hair. It was all he could do not to drag her into his arms and kiss some sense into her, and judging by the rise and fall of her chest, she was feeling the same reaction. “I take that back. Not just a spark, Ava, but a damned flame.”