PERFECT (11 page)

“We thought we’d
surprised you.” His mother stepped forward, smiling. “We drove all night.”

“Mission
accomplished.” He accepted his mother’s hug.

“And who do we
have here,” his father asked, dropping his knapsack to the hardwood floor with
a thud.

Dylan spun around
in time to see Darcy scramble to her feet and quickly extended his hand to
steady her. He apologized in volumes with his eyes for what was about to happen
and hoped she’d accept them. “This is Darcy Witherspoon.”

“Why haven’t we
heard about you before?” Mom extended her hand to Darcy.

“We just met,”
Dylan offered.

“I ah…Hello,”
Darcy smiled.

Mom had a strong
grip. He saw Darcy wince slightly while accepting the older woman’s greeting.

“Oh, Gray, listen
to that accent. You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, hon?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m
from Charleston, South Carolina.”

“Oh, we love
Charleston. Over the years, we’ve joined a few protests that were held there.”

“So you just met,”
his father said. “That means you must be a guest of the ski lodge. Another
slope—”

Dylan stuck his
finger in the air. “Dad, don’t say it.”

The older
Kincaid’s brow shot up above his wire frames. “What? I was going to say slope
enthusiast.”

Dylan closed his
eyes to a laser-thin squint, and stared his father down, praying he wouldn’t
embarrass him further.

Gray chuckled.
“Lighten up, kid.” He stuck his hand out to Darcy. “So you met my son on the
mountain. He’s a good skier. He had boards on his feet a month after he started
to walk.”

“No. I don’t ski.”
She smiled at his father.

“Darcy is a friend
of Tom Angleman’s,” Dylan said, stepping closer to her side.

“She’s his friend
and yet she’s here with you?” Gray’s lips thinned and he blew out low whistle
while wiggling a finger at the spot on the floor where they’d been found
seemingly cuddling.

“It’s not like
that.” Dylan shook his head. “I was consoling her.”

“Oh, no. That
doesn’t sound good.” His mother’s expression tightened with concern. “Did Tom breakup
with you? Come here, you poor thing.”

“No poor thing.”
Dylan waved off the notion. He glanced at Darcy and saw a mixture of sadness
and amusement in her eyes. How that was possible he had no idea. Maybe she was
about to lose her composure again. “Well, yes poor thing, but it’s not what you
think.”

“You piqued my
interest.” Gray stepped back to the foyer, removed his hat and hung it on the
coat rack. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on a hook before smoothing a
hand over his salt-and-pepper hair and straightening his own thin braid.

“Darcy is Tom’s
friend from culinary school. She came to visit him for the holiday and offered
to help me decorate the house for Christmas.”

Lilac’s eyes lit
up. “That’s very nice of you. So you’re a chef.”

Darcy nodded,
lifting the hem of her knit sweater and stuffing her hands into her front jean
pockets.

Gray moved his
finger in mid-air from point A to point B. “I don’t get the poor part in that
explanation.”

Dylan looked down
at her and again apologized profusely with his gaze for the inquiry.

She swiped a
finger under her nose. “I lost my business to a fire last week,” she confessed.

He guessed she’d
decided to tell her story so they could deal with his parents’ reaction and
move on.

“Oh, you poor,
poor child.” Lilac wrapped her arms around Darcy and squeezed her before
holding her at arm’s length. “It’s only material things. It can all be
replaced. What’s important is no one was hurt.” Lilac blinked. “No one was
hurt, were they?”

“No.” Darcy’s
auburn locks shimmered in the daylight streaming through the living room window
as she nodded. Catching his supportive gaze, she lifted her chin a little
higher and kept her tone controlled. “It happened very late at night. We were
closed for a couple of hours when the fire broke out.”

“Thank the good
spirits for that.” Mom patted Darcy’s forearm and then stepped back and slowly
circled the room, inspecting the decorations.

“Yes, very lucky,”
Gray said. “Someone was watching over you.”

Dylan rolled his
eyes at Darcy and she smiled openly at his father. “Yes. Good spirits. Indeed.”

Coming up beside
him, Mom laid her sheepskin-lined flock over the chair. Her hands landed on her
trim hips and she surveyed the room one more time before crossing to the
fireplace where she fingered a snowflake. “The house looks different.”

“Yes,” Dylan
responded, proud of the work they’d accomplished in a few hours. “Darcy helped
me this morning. We were just taking a lunch break before we finish up.”

“Very nice, but
where are the angels I carved for Elizabeth? She always puts them on the
mantle.”

“I believe Darcy
used them in the dining room.”

“Yes. I did.”

“But they go on
the mantle. Jillian and Katy will expect to see them there.” His mother whisked
by them and headed toward the dining room. “It’s a tradition.”

The twinkle in
Darcy’s eyes faded.

“Mom, wait,” he
called after her, heaving a sigh. He hurried around the coffee table. “I’m sure
the girls are not going to be upset on where your angels are set. They’re just
going to be happy there are decorations.”

“True.” His mother
came back into the room and almost collided with him. Her arms were securely
linked around the eighteen-inch-high oak carved angels like they were valuable
treasure. “But just in case, let’s put them on the mantle where they belong.
That way there are no worries. You don’t mind if I rearrange things just a
little, do you, Darcy?”

“Mom, please. The
mantle is fine.”

“Fine?” Darcy
stared up at him, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth.

“No. I mean it’s
great. It’s perfect.” What the hell was happening? He grabbed Darcy’s soft
hand. “I’m sorry about this.”

“Why are you
apologizing?” Lilac said as she spread the greens on the mantle and maneuvered
the base of an angel between them. “It’s not Darcy’s fault she didn’t know our
tradition.”

“What about the
outside? I see you strung a line of lights across the railing, but the whole
house needs to be done,” Gray piped up, breaking into the conversation. He
rounded the coffee table, plucked a chip from the bowl Dylan had brought in
with the sandwiches, and popped the snack into his mouth. “Bob usually had the
place lit up like a launch pad the weekend after Thanksgiving. Is there anymore
egg salad?”

“I’ve been a
little busy, Dad.” Anger, hurt and a whole ball of emotions rolled in his gut
as Dylan turned to face his father. “Darcy and I were going to do start outside
after we ate our lunch. I want to surprise the girls when they get off the bus
today.”

“Maybe I should
go,” Darcy started around him and he grabbed her hand, stopping her. Only a few
minutes ago, he’d felt happy and finally in control of Christmas, but now… He
almost wished the damn holiday was over, but then that would mean Darcy would
go back to South Carolina and he didn’t want to lose her company so soon.

“No. You stay. Mom
and Dad,” he said, probably louder than necessary. Both parents’ stopped in
motion—Mom about to place the second angel and Dad about to pop another chip
into his mouth.

He drew in a deep
breath and counted to five before asking, “Are you staying for Christmas?”

“Yes. We want to
be here for the girls,” his mother said.

“That and there’s
a town meeting on Thursday night,” his father added. “The last of the year. The
council will be voting on Joe Marshal’s proposal to allow his cows to graze
freely on the county land out on Blueberry Road. The county wouldn’t have to
pay someone to mow it. And Harold Decker wants to build a boat launch on the
north side of the lake. Peters on the council seems to have a problem with
that. So we thought we’d come and support Harold too. All he wants to do is be
able to get into his row boat when he gets to be seventy, which is not far off,
and do a little fishing.”

“Fine.” Dylan
raised a hand, cutting his father off. “Where are you going to stay? Here or at
the house, my place?”

“I thought we’d
stay here in the guest room, so we could help with the girls,” his mother said.

“Where’s the
tree?” Dad munched.

“We’re going out
Saturday to cut it down.”

“Cutting it close
to Christmas. That is only three days before.”

“Oh, Gray. Some people
put their trees up on Christmas Eve,” Mom replied, fluffing the greens. “Darcy,
do you mind if I move a few of these snowflakes?”

“No. Not at all.”
She minded. He could feel the tension in her hand, which he still held.

“We did that one
year, Gray, remember?” His mother continued.

“We had a puddle
of water on the floor from the snow melting off the branches. Shorted out the
lights too. We better get the tree earlier. If you don’t have time, I’ll get it
tomorrow.”

“No. The girls and
I already planned to get it Saturday. We’re making a big day of it. Darcy is
coming with us.”

“I am?”

“Yes, remember? We
talked about it at lunch yesterday.”

“Oh, right,” she
said, picking up on his lead.

“We’re going for
the tree and then while it’s drying, I’m taking Darcy and the girls snow
tubing. After we have dinner, we’re going to decorate the tree. We have a whole
day planned. Right?” He looked down at Darcy with pleading eyes, hoping she’d
go along with every word he said.

“Okay, if you have
it all planned, I’ll spend the day catching up with Harold and a few of the
guys.”

“Well, it sounds
like a fun day. I’ll tag along,” Mom said.

He wrapped his arm
around Darcy’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Actually, we sort of wanted to
spend some time together, Mom.”

“But I thought—”

“Mom.” He cocked
an eyebrow and darted his eyes sideways toward Darcy without moving his head as
if he was including her in his plan.

“Oh, right.” She
snapped her fingers. “I wanted to catch up with the ladies at the church
anyway. I’m sure they’re busy preparing food baskets for the needy families in
the area.”

Relief washed
through him. Having the girls around while he spent time with Darcy was one
thing, but his parents were a totally different story. The girls wouldn’t watch
his every move, hoping that Darcy might be the perfect woman for him. And
Jillian and Kathy took naps and went to bed early. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate
your help, Mom.”

“Lilac, I’m
starved.” Gray finished off the chips and brushed his hands together. “Let’s go
make a bite and then I’ll unload what you need out of the van. Then while you
get us settled in, I’ll help Dylan with the outdoor lights.”

“Fine.”

The moment they
exited the room, Dylan turned to Darcy. “I’m sorry about that.”

Darcy shrugged.
“No need to apologize, but maybe you should take me back to Tom’s. I feel like
I’m imposing.”

“You’d really let
me here alone with them?”

She laughed at his
mocked expression of terror. “They’re your parents.”

“Exactly.”

“You’ll be alone
with them sometime.”

“Not if I can help
it.” He stepped closer and inhaled her sweet scent. “Please stay.”

“Your mom doesn’t
like my decorating.”

“That’s not true.
I really think she’s impressed with what you’ve done.” He surveyed the foyer
and living room. “She just wanted her angels on the mantle. She is all about
tradition. And to be honest, she places those angles on the mantle every year,
not Elizabeth. It’s a thing with her. Please, I don’t want you to go. I want
the girls to meet you.”

She really didn’t
want her time with him to end, but… “You do?”

He traced a finger
along her jaw, sending tingles down her spine. “Yeah. I do.”

Darcy’s heart
caught at his words. She liked this guy. She’d be lying to herself if she
thought otherwise. Was she setting herself up for heartache by spending more
time with him?

Not if she kept in
mind that he already said just “friends”. The relationship wasn’t going any
further. She had her life waiting for her and in ten days she’d be gone from
this mountain top.

She rubbed her jaw
line, erasing the memory of his touch. “Okay. I’ll stay for a little while
longer.”

Three hours later,
Darcy stood in a foot of snow, holding the final string of lights Dylan needed
to string on the fifteen-foot evergreen tree that stood off the corner of the
house. Gray Kincaid stood off to her side instructing Dylan as to where every
bulb should be hooked onto the branches.

Dylan’s jaw
tightened as his father barked, “Wrong branch. The one of above it.”

Once the lights
were strung, Dylan climbed down the extension ladder. Gray took charge of the
ladder from there, carrying it off to the tool shed.

“Your dad is a
little OCD when it comes to Christmas lights. Is he that way with your
brother?”

“Yeah. That’s why
Bob hangs the lights the day after Thanksgiving. Dad is all about celebrating
the holidays and usually he sleeps his turkey dinner off on Black Friday. I
thought I had time to get them hung.”

Darcy couldn’t
help the burst of laughter that escaped her. “I get it.”

Bob had wired an
outdoor outlet for the specific purpose of powering outdoor lighting and
landscaping maintenance tools. Dylan plugged the lights into the extension cord
he’d run from that box.

“That does it.” He
stood with his hands on his hips, staring up at the tree. The lights were
barely visible in the daylight that filtered through overcast skies.
“Everything is done.”

He turned his face
down to her. His chocolate eyes sparkled with happiness and his cheeks, blushed
with cold, puffed up above his whiskers. She fought the urge to pluck the piece
of pine from the worn knitted cap he wore. Touching him in any way was a real
strain on her willpower. “We made it.”