Merry with a Playmaker (Love Beach Holiday Collection)

Chapter Seven

The bonfire crackles and pops, sending glowing embers dancing into the night sky. I spot Evan across the way, laughing with friends, his eyes crinkling in that familiar, charming way. My heart does a little flip despite my determination to play it cool tonight.

I casually saunter over, hands in my coat pockets, attempting an air of nonchalance. "Hey stranger." I bump his shoulder with mine. "Fancy meeting you here."

Evan's gaze meets mine, warm and inviting. His lips quirk into that crooked grin I know so well. "Merry! I was hoping I'd run into you." He gestures around at the festive scene. "Quite the holiday setup they have here in Love Beach, isn't it?"

"It's not bad," I allow, eyes scanning the lights and holly garlands strung between lampposts. "Quaint, even. In an overly sentimental, Hallmark movie kind of way."

Evan laughs, the sound rich and genuine, and it stirs something low in my belly…and parts south. "That's high praise coming from you, Miss Cynical."

Grabbing a cup of mulled cider from a passing tray, I raise the mug to my face inhaling the spices and warmth. I take a small sip and wince at the slight burn on my tongue. Worth it. Anything to keep my hands and mouth occupied so I don't say something stupid or pull him in for a kiss that would melt the snow off the ground.

I mingle and chat with the other partygoers, I sneak glances at Evan from the corner of my eye. The firelight flickers across his handsome features, making him look both boyishly playful and dangerously alluring all at once. Memories of our passionate encounter last night flash unbidden through my mind, making my cheeks flush.

Just then, I catch a snippet of Evan's conversation with his old rugby buddy. "...all according to plan so far. I'm just glad she showed up tonight..."

I freeze, my plastic cup hovering halfway to my lips. Plan? What plan? The seed of suspicion takes root, unfurling tiny tendrils around my buzzing brain. I glance back at Evan, noting the conspiratorial tilt of his head, the secretive quirk of his mouth as he talks.

A sinking sensation settles in my stomach and I have to consciously unclench my jaw. Of course. This cozy reunion, the intimate moments reigniting between us like Christmas magic... He orchestrated the whole thing.

I’m the fool in a Hallmark movie. Cue the sad music and falling snow.

I down the rest of my cider in one burning gulp. The warmth does nothing to chase away the chill spreading through my veins. I should have known. Evan always was a master tactician, on and off the field.

I paste on a bright smile as an acquaintance pulls me into a discussion about the charming small town atmosphere. Inside, my mind is reeling, heart thudding traitorously against my ribcage. What is Evan's game here? Why do I think I’m the one who might be played?

**********

My head buzzing with unanswered questions, I excuse myself from the conversation and stride purposefully toward Evan. He turns, his face lighting up when he sees me. The smile falters as he takes in my expression.

"Merry? Is everything okay?"

I cross my arms, fixing him with a look that could frost a gingerbread house. "I don't know, Evan. You tell me. How's your little 'plan' going so far?"

His eyes widen, panic flickering across his chiseled features. "Plan? What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb." I jab a finger at his chest, ignoring the electric tingle that zips up my arm at the contact. "I heard you talking to your buddy. About how you 'planned' this whole reunion."

Evan's face crumples, regret etching lines around his mouth. "Merry, listen, I can explain—"

"Oh, I'm all ears. This should be good."

He runs a hand through his hair, his broad shoulders sagging. "You're right. I did plan for us to meet up here. It's not what you think."

I scoff, rolling my eyes heavenward. "Enlighten me, then. Because from where I'm standing, it looks an awful lot like manipulation."

"No!" Evan's eyes blaze with intensity, his voice low and urgent. "Merry, I would never try to manipulate you. I just..." He blows out a breath, shaking his head. "I missed you. So damn much. I was afraid if I didn't create an opportunity for us to reconnect, I might lose my chance forever."

"So you, what? Orchestrated this whole holiday happenstance? Pulled some strings to make sure our paths would cross?"

Evan's gaze finds mine, holding steady even as shame colors his cheeks. "Yeah. I did. And I'm sorry for not being upfront about it." He reaches for my hand, his calloused fingers brushing my skin with a gentleness that makes me shiver. "Merry... My feelings for you, this connection between us? That's real. That's always been real."

**********

I stare at our hands, his touch sending sparks racing along my nerves despite my best efforts to remain unmoved. The analytical side of my brain dissects his words, searching for any hint of deception.

Damn him. Damn him for still having this effect on me. For making me want to believe in second chances and happily ever afters, even when my logical mind knows better.

His presence enveloping me like a warm embrace. "I know I messed up. I should have been honest from the start, but I swear to you, I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted a chance to show you how much you mean to me. How much you've always meant to me."

My heart thunders each beat a dizzying mix of longing and trepidation. Evan must see the hesitation in my eyes because he brings his other hand up to cup my cheek, his touch achingly tender. "I know I can’t make up for the years we missed, but if you'll let me, I'll spend every day making it up to you – to us."

Heat. Hope. Possibility. Desire. Lust. The chance to answer the question that plagued for over decade: what if?

I hesitate, my gaze searching Evan's face for any sign of deception, but all I see is raw sincerity and vulnerability. He means it. Every word.

I nod. "I believe you, Evan. Okay."

His hand tightens around mine, a gentle squeeze that sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine. "Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Thank you, Merry, for giving us another chance. For giving me another chance.”

Evan's arms encircle me, drawing me into a gentle embrace that feels both familiar and new. I hesitate for a heartbeat, my mind still processing the whirlwind of emotions, before allowing myself to melt into his warmth. The beat of his heart against my cheek is a comforting rhythm, a reminder that beneath the bravado and the miscalculations, he's still the same Evan I've always known.

We sway to the distant music, I chuckle softly. "You know, if someone had told me a week ago that I'd be slow dancing with you at a holiday bonfire, I would've laughed in their face."

Evan's chest rumbles with a low laugh. "And if someone had told me a week ago that I'd be holding the brilliant Merry Robinson in my arms, I would've thought they were crazy." He pulls back his eyes finding mine, a twinkle of mirth dancing in their depths. "Here we are, defying expectations and taking chances."

I smile, shaking my head. "Here we are indeed but don't think for a second that this means I'm going to go easy on you, de Nemours. You've still got some proving to do."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Robinson." His grin is infectious.

The bonfire crackles and pops, casting a warm glow on the smiling faces around us, I allow myself to lean into this moment, into the promise of a future that's equal parts thrilling and terrifying. It's a leap of faith, a chance to explore what we could be, and for once in my life, I'm ready to take that jump.

With Evan's arms around me and the magic of the holiday season in the air, anything feels possible. And as we sway beneath the starlit sky, I allow myself to believe we both needed to find our way back to each other and to ourselves.

To more firsts, I silently toast, raising an imaginary glass to the night ahead.

And as we share a lingering look, I know tonight, tomorrow, and every day after that, I'm cautiously optimistic about the adventure that awaits us both.

The bonfire crackles, and the music drifts on the cool night air as couples sway to the rhythmic beat. Evan's arms around me are like coming home.

"I missed this," I whisper over the crackling fire and the laughter of our friends.

Evan tightens his grip around my waist, and I look up into his chocolate-brown eyes. "Me too, Merry. Me too."

We sway in silence, lost in each other's arms, as the bonfire dies down and the last notes of the song fade into the background. The party winds down and guests start to leave, we linger by the dying embers of the bonfire, reluctant to let go of this perfect moment.