Christmas on 4th Street (Fool's Gold #12.5)

“That all sounds really delicious. Are you seriously complaining?”


“Sort of.” Dellina grinned. “Okay, not. But it’s been intense. Again, the issue is sheer volume. We’re talking six or seven hundred people. That’s a lot of food. I had to get permission to let a few more people in on the secret so we could get some help with the cooking and storage. A couple of the restaurant chefs are helping and a few of the really good cooks in town.”

She tossed a completed bag into the box. “Then there are the other logistics. It’s going to be late and a lot of the little kids will be tired and cranky. We’ve set up a quiet area with sleeping bags for parents who want their children to sleep but still want to go to the party. I’ve lined up teenagers to help with the babysitting, which means hiring them without telling them what it’s about. Let me just say the average sixteen-year-old girl wants details before she takes a job.”

She filled another bag. “There’s the live band and seating for that many people. It’s a logistics nightmare. I know everyone wants this to be a surprise, but I can’t help thinking the weddings are going to be the worst kept secret ever.”

“You’ve done your best,” Noelle told her. “Honestly, I can’t imagine how you’ve pulled this off. I would be curled up in the corner, whimpering.”

“There are nights that end like that. Just don’t tell anyone.” Dellina looked at her. “What about you? Are you okay with all this wedding fever?”

“I’m fine with it.” She paused, then sighed. “Okay, I’ll admit to twinges of...” What was the right word? “Longing, I guess. I want them to be happy, and I want what they have, too. I wish...”

“That your hunky doctor friend wanted more than just sex?”

Noelle winced. “Is it that obvious?”

“No, I was guessing.”

“Then I want you on my team the next time we play charades.” Noelle reached for more candy. “He’s great. More than great. But he’s not interested in anything long-term and even if he was, he’s leaving. I want to stay here and dig my roots in deeper.”

“I’m sorry he’s not the one,” Dellina said. “But the sex is great, right? Because that makes me so envious.”

Noelle grinned. “So it’s like that, is it?”

“Absolutely. I’m not looking for love. I just want a couple of hot nights. Or twenty.”

“Not love?” Noelle asked.

“No way. My folks died when I was sixteen. I got custody of my twin sisters when I was eighteen.”

“Wow, that’s tough.”

“For anyone, but I had it really hard. I was kind of flaky and irresponsible. My parents indulged me more than they should have. I wasn’t even close to ready and then I didn’t have a choice.”

Dellina paused, as if remembering. “I got my sisters through high school and college. They’re finally happy and settled in their lives. Now it’s my turn. There is no way I want to take on any responsibility right now.” Her brown eyes flashed with humor. “The only issue I want to deal with is a charming guy asking me if I want to be on top.”

Noelle knew she was both teasing and telling the truth. “I get that,” she admitted. “The whole fear of not being enough or the love being too much, as well as not wanting to take on one more thing.”

“I believe a well-trained psychologist would say that I’m afraid of commitment,” Dellina said cheerfully. “A flaw I can live with. One day I’ll be ready to be in love. Just not yet.”

She’d been like that, too, Noelle thought. After being sick and Jeremy dumping her. She’d been scared to risk her heart. But then she’d realized she’d been given the gift of a second chance. Was the lesson she really wanted to take away from that the idea that it was okay to live in fear?

She wanted to say she regretted loving Gabriel, but she couldn’t. He was wonderful. How could she not have loved him? Only now she was left with the fact that she was staying and he was leaving and when he left, her heart would go with him.

* * *

Gabriel’s mother passed over another listing. “This one has stairs.”

“Why shouldn’t we buy a house with stairs?” Norm asked, leaning over and kissing his wife’s neck. “We’re not old. Look at you, Karen. Every guy in the restaurant is checking you out. They’re probably wishing they were going to be me later.”

Gabriel held on to his beer with both hands and reminded himself that this, too, would pass. Not so much dinner with his parents, which had been pretty okay. But his father’s change of heart. Because a kinder, gentler version of the man was more than a little tough to deal with.