A Fool's Gold Christmas (Fool's Gold #9.5)

“I could use a break.” He motioned to the chair by his desk. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”


“I’m fine.” May waved him back to his seat. “Sit. I’ll only be here for a second. I want to ask you something.”

She probably wanted gift suggestions for Rafe, Dante thought as he settled back in his chair. He was a guy. He didn’t know what Rafe wanted.

“I wanted to thank you,” May said. “For helping me with Evie.” She smiled at him. “I know you encouraged her to give me a chance, and I’m very grateful.”

He wasn’t comfortable with praise. “I pointed out that it takes two to fight and asked if that’s what she wanted for her relationship with her family.”

“You’re being modest, which I happen to know isn’t like you.” She stared into his eyes. “You encouraged her to have an open mind. That allowed her to consider I might be telling the truth when I apologized for all I’d done.”

She dropped her gaze to her hands and twisted her fingers together. “I was so wrong and so horrible. I’m still wrestling with how I acted. Evie is being so generous in letting me be a part of her life again. I’m getting a second chance and I’m grateful.”

“Ah, good.” Dante shifted on his seat and hoped they were done talking about emotions. The only way this could get worse was for May to start crying.

Rafe’s mother glanced back at him. “That’s why I’m worried about your relationship with her.”

Dante realized he’d been wrong. Tears weren’t the only way this could get worse.

“You’re a good man,” she continued. “Rafe speaks highly of you, and I respect his opinion. But he’s also said you’re not someone interested in a long-term relationship.” She stared at him, her eyes pleading. “I just got my daughter back. I don’t want her hurt.”

He swore silently, wishing he were anywhere but here. “I appreciate your concern, and I share it. I don’t want Evie hurt, either. We’re both clear on what’s going on. We’ve talked about it.”

May’s expression softened, and the tension left her shoulders. “You have? Oh, that’s a relief. Rafe didn’t tell me that. I was afraid…” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. As long as the two of you are clear on the ground rules. Evie has a good head on her shoulders.”

“I agree. We both know this is just for fun.” He was careful not to mention the sex. That would only send the conversation back to disaster.

“At the risk of sounding eighty years old,” May said with a smile, “I don’t understand you young people today. I could never get as involved with a man as Evie is with you and not fall in love. I’m not built that way. Of course, I never expected to ever fall in love again, and look what happened to me. I’m a newlywed. And at my age.”

Still smiling, she rose. “Thanks so much for taking the time to speak with me. I know you’re busy. We’ll be seeing you for Christmas dinner, won’t we?”

Dante stood and nodded automatically, but his attention was elsewhere. May’s words repeated themselves over and over in his brain, getting louder with each iteration.

“I could never get as involved with a man as Evie is with you and not fall in love.”

He was aware of walking May to the door and saying he would see her tomorrow, at the pet adoption. Somehow he made his way back to his desk and settled in his chair. But he didn’t bother looking at his computer. After all, he wouldn’t really see it.

There were rules, he reminded himself. They’d both been clear. Neither of them would get emotionally involved. But he’d been jealous of Evie when he’d seen her with Gideon. Jealousy meant he cared about her more than he should. What was the next step? Buying spontaneous presents? Looking forward to seeing her and spending time with her? Imagining a future with her?

No. No way in hell. He didn’t fall for anyone. He wasn’t that guy. He didn’t do love.

He’d learned that lesson a long time ago and he was never going back. Not for anyone. Now the only question was what to do to fix the situation without anyone getting hurt.

Chapter Seventeen

“It’s complicated,” Patience said.

“But they’re sisters.” Evie glanced at the two fortysomething salon owners, standing on opposite sides of the stage at the convention center. “And they both do hair.”

“Yes, but they have competing salons and they rarely speak. It’s all very mysterious. No one knows exactly why they’re estranged. A few times a year, they show up at the same event. And they’ve always helped out with The Dance of the Winter King. Don’t worry. They’ll be fine.”