Dance Me a Dream (Wishful 7)

Because he couldn’t help himself, Jace reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “You have the prettiest, saddest eyes, I’ve ever seen.”

She frowned. “So—what? You decided to play Santa to me and my family to fix it?”

“I’m not arrogant enough to believe I can fix it.” He’d learned that hard lesson well enough with Jordan. “But getting a real smile out of you is the kind of personal challenge I like.”

“Look, Jace. You’re a nice guy. Obviously you are. And I can appreciate that you’re apparently interested in me, but I just can’t—I’m not in a position to think about something so simple as dating. I’ve got too much responsibility.”

Unperturbed, he nodded. “I respect that. But for while you’re staying at the farm, you’ve got help. People who legitimately dig the kids and want to spend time with them. I swear

to you they aren’t a burden. So maybe for however long you’re here, you could give yourself a break and enjoy a good, old fashioned country Christmas.”

Tara frowned. “No strings?”

“No strings,” he assured her.

She shook her head. “I don’t understand you.”

“Do you need to?”

“I need things to make sense. Generally when something seems too good to be true, it is. Everything you’re offering here seems like it should have a gigantic neon sign blinking Suckers Apply Here.”

Jace could’ve been offended at that. But that kind of attitude didn’t develop without having learned some hard lessons. So instead he said, “You know what the best part of a good, old-fashioned country Christmas is?”

“What?”

“The more the merrier. If there’s one thing that Applewhites know, it’s how to do Christmas. We want to do this for you, for your brother and sister. Because we can. Because it’s fun. And yeah, I am interested in more than that—not gonna lie—but I’m not going to push you. So just take what I’m offering here and enjoy it. I get the sense you haven’t let yourself do that since you took charge of the kids.”

She gave a soft, self-deprecatory laugh. “That’s true enough. So I’ll stop being rude and looking this gift horse in the mouth and just say thank you for your hospitality.”

That, Jace decided, was a start.

Chapter 5

“I have the prettiest, saddest eyes he’s ever seen? I mean, what the heck am I supposed to say to that?” Tara demanded.

Daniel, the other barista on duty, listened with rapt attention. “Did he touch you as he said it?”

She pretended she had to think about it, though the gesture was burned into her brain. “He tucked my hair behind my ear.”

“That’s so romantic,” he sighed, absently placing the pre-filled coffee filter into the waiting container.

“Focus, Daniel. He thinks I’m sad.”

He unfolded the next filter and held it waiting for the fresh ground beans Tara was scooping. “Honey, you are sad.”

“Seriously? Is this what people see when they look at me?” More importantly, is this what her brother and sister saw? The last thing she wanted was for either of them to feel like she resented them for what she had to give up to take care of them.

“Probably not most people. Most folks don’t look too close. But sweetheart, you’ve got cocker spaniel eyes. Big and soulful. And yes, sad. But who can blame you? You were basically a mom at nineteen. While everybody else is out doing the college thing, you’re here earning your angel wings. It’s noble and honorable, but you wouldn’t be human if that didn’t make you sad sometimes.”

“Then I suppose I’m very human.” She finished with the Anjilinaka from Bolivia and moved on to the Riakiberu from Kenya. “I don’t regret it. If I had it to do over, I’d do the exact same thing. I just...I guess I’m feeling what I gave up a little more keenly right now.”

As if on cue, “The Waltz of the Flowers” began to play on their internet radio station. Again.

Right. Twist that knife a little deeper.

“Sounds like your Mr. Applewhite wants to make up for that.”

“He’s not mine.”