Heart of Christmas (Curiosity Bay #4)

7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Audrey

The smoldering look in his eyes made my heart skip a few beats as I closed the door on him and turned down the hall. I squeezed my Santa, marched into the kitchen, and sprinkled a little more popcorn in my bowl as an aching feeling lodged into my belly.

MacGregor looked at me with genuine fondness, and I couldn’t shake the baffled look he flashed at me every time I brought up what happened so many years ago.

Was he that much of a player that he didn’t even remember precisely what happened that fateful morning?

I tucked my knee under my body and crashed onto the fluffy velour couch facing the television. I flipped on a series I’d been dying to binge and munched on some popcorn.

The characters on the screen blurred into oblivion as my mind rewound to MacGregor. I’d essentially put him up in the bedroom as a prisoner, not a guest. He hadn’t complained once, and I couldn’t even muster thoughtfulness. Sure, I’d been helpful by offering a place to stay overnight so he didn’t freeze to death, and I handed him some popcorn, but I shut the door in his face and refused to talk to him.

But I knew why I couldn’t talk to him about that night many years ago.

I’d been hurt in a way I didn’t even think possible.

I’d been embarrassed.

I felt foolish for falling for it.

Maybe he’d been used to women who’d hop in the sack and never look back.

I wasn’t one of them. I had never been.

“Not worth my time,” I grumbled, reaching for the remote to try something new.

“Not a good show?” MacGregor’s voice skittered up my spine, heating every cell in my body as I kept my gaze on the television. “I’ve heard good things about it. Been meaning to start it.”

“I wasn’t talking about the show,” I muttered, keeping my gaze forward as he walked into the kitchen.

“I hate to ask, but do you mind if I get a little more popcorn? I’m starving.”

I instinctively turned to nod, and my gaze caught his. My breath hitched as his beautiful green eyes stayed on mine.

“No. Yeah, it’s fine. I can’t eat that much myself.”

MacGregor studied me as he shoveled more popcorn into his bowl.

“So, anything you want to talk about?” he asked, walking over with his full bowl.

“No. Why would I?”

“Something clearly has you upset.” He looked at my Christmas tree tucked in the corner, twinkling with red, green, and white lights. “Pretty tree.”

“Thanks. Nothing has me upset.” I stuffed more popcorn into my mouth.

“What’s not worth your time?” He cocked his head slightly.

I drew a deep breath and answered. “You.”

MacGregor nodded, his expression falling. “I’m sorry. I should have known.” He didn’t tear his gaze away from me, so I did the honor and stared at the television. “Listen, I won’t come back out for popcorn. I’ll just stay—”

The knot in my stomach tightened. “No. It’s fine. Stay. You don’t bother me anymore.” I lied.

“Anymore?” He chuckled and took a seat across the room.

MacGregor looked like the guy I fell for so many years ago. Compassion stirred behind his gaze as he held his bowl of popcorn, trying to glimpse me now and again.

“I know this is your worst nightmare, and I’m sorry.” The tenderness in his voice caught me off guard.

My eyes flicked to his, and I shrugged, attempting to look like nothing about him heightened my senses.

“It’s not a big deal. I’m an adult. I made a choice that night, and I chose wrong.”

MacGregor’s gaze stayed on mine, and all the air in the room became electrified. “Did you?”

My breath caught in the back of my throat, and I let out a slow breath, feeling everything rushing back from that night that taught me more than I cared to remember.

“Did I what?” I chose a Christmas movie and scowled over at him.

“Choose wrong?”

“Without a doubt. I chose to take a chance on something too good to be true, and it was.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “And yes, I get it. I shouldn’t have put so much weight into… everything. It was my fault. I was young and dumb. Lesson learned.”

“Audrey, it kills me to hear that. I…” He shook his head slowly, his eyes staying on mine. “I don’t understand. I thought we had a connection. You’re so intelligent and amazing. It’s just—”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not you, it’s me. I get it. I got it.” I shook my head and let out a sigh. “Message received loud and clear.”

MacGregor stood and shook his head, coming a few steps closer. “What message, Audrey? I honestly don’t understand. If anything, I should be the disgruntled one. I’m the one who—”

His words shot me up off the couch, popcorn flying.

“You? I’m the one who woke up alone.”

Shock plastered over his gorgeous face right before the lights flickered and went out in a blink of an eye.

I squeezed my eyes closed, hoping the lights would return when I blinked open.

No such luck.

MacGregor was on the floor with his phone light, picking up all the pieces of popcorn I’d managed to fling all over for the second time tonight.

I bent down next to him, and what annoyed me the most was that in all this mess raining down around me, I couldn’t help but be blinded by his charm.

In the heat of the moment, when I finally had the chance to tell him how I really felt and what his actions did to me, I noticed everything about him. The green of his eyes flecked with concern, his chiseled jawline tweaking with each word I uttered, and MacGregor’s broad shoulders straightening as he waited patiently for my response—all of it made me doubt my version of events.

And then the power went out.

Even in the shadows, he looked so sure of himself and confident, but that was merely a ploy. I’d seen his type many times around the city. I’d let them buy me drinks, and then I’d go on to the next.

And now, here we were picking up my mess, and I still had no answers.

“Do you have any candles I can light, or wood for the fireplace?”

I snatched the last piece of popcorn from the area rug and put it in my bowl.

“There’s a wood pile off the deck where the grass ends. It’s covered with a tarp, probably buried under snow.” I took a step back and glanced toward the cupboards. “But I’ve got it handled. Just give me a second. I want to call in the outage.”

I turned on my phone’s flashlight and wandered to the kitchen, searching my fridge magnets for the phone number, when I heard the back door shut quietly.

It was nearly dark by now, and the snow had far outmatched the weatherman’s predictions. MacGregor was trudging through the calf-deep snow, following my directions, until he reached the tarp.

“He’s so frustrating,” I muttered under my breath as I texted the outage to the power company.

But I couldn’t stop watching him effortlessly tuck the wood under his arms, reposition the tarp, and make his way back to the house. I spun around quickly and opened the cabinet with a few candles as he opened the door.

“I could have done it,” I said, softening up a bit as he took off his shoes, keeping the wood tucked under his arms.

“I don’t doubt it,” he said, nodding. “I just want to be helpful. It’s the least I could do.”

My phone buzzed, and I saw a text from my brother.

Are you doing okay? Is MacGregor still fine there? I can’t believe you’d let an ex with a history like that stay there, hypothermia or not. The power company said that they hope to have the power restored by morning, but the cause hasn’t been found yet.

I smiled, knowing how lucky I was to have such a tight family. We’d always been open about things, told each other everything, but not this. I never mentioned MacGregor. I was too embarrassed back in my twenties. Even tonight, when I filled my brother in so he wouldn’t worry, I just mentioned he was an ex-boyfriend who was utterly harmless—annoying, but harmless.

Doing good. He went out and got wood for the fireplace. I guess he’s not all bad.

My brother texted back.

Let me know if you need anything.

When I lit a few candles around the kitchen and family room, MacGregor was already kneeling at the hearth, arranging the wood, and putting some kindling on top.

I brought him the matches, and he smiled at me.

Even after being utterly disgruntled with him and entirely open with my disdain for him, he still managed to smile at me, which made things even more annoying.

He took the matches from me, and I walked over to the window overlooking my back yard. The snow sparkled on my deck from the porchlights, and calmness swept through me. It had been a long time since we had a snowstorm like this on Marigold Island.

The fire's amber hue bounced off the walls as I spun around to see MacGregor closing the screen. Shadows danced off his chiseled features as he turned to look at me.

“Kind of romantic, isn’t it?” He laughed, shaking his head. “You know, if you didn’t hate my guts.”

My lips pressed together into a thin line, and I hugged myself. “I don’t hate your guts.”

In fact, I was dreaming about them the other night.

“I’m just not as easily fooled,” I informed him. “I can make something on the gas stove for dinner if the lights don’t come back on, but I want to give it an hour or so. It’s always a hassle with lighting it.”

“Fine with me. Popcorn filled me up.” He nodded and glanced at the fire. “But why don’t you let me cook for you?”

My brows raised. “Still worried I’ll poison you?”

MacGregor’s deep, rumbly laughter filled the room, and I couldn’t fathom why I was falling for it.

“The thought has crossed my mind a time or two.”

A chill ran through me from the heat going out, so I took a few steps toward the fireplace. He noticed and reached for a Santa throw I had folded on an ottoman and draped it over my shoulders.

“Could you stop?” I asked, looking at him.

Contradictions swirled around me and made me feel like a fool again. I couldn’t let his immediate kindness throw me back into the MacGregor loop.

“You just shivered.” He shrugged. “At least I didn’t try to hug you.”

I cocked my head slightly and tightened the blanket around me. “Why did you come to my sister’s wedding?”

He sucked a deep breath and glanced at the flames before returning his gaze to me.

“Because I wanted to see my good friend get married, and I selfishly thought if I saw you again, you might…” He stopped himself.

“Might sleep with you?” My pulse raced with agitation. MacGregor was the absolute definition of a player.

“No.” He shook his head. “Might explain what happened all those years ago.”