Chapter 23, That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe (Abieville Love Stories #4)

Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Three

I keep telling myself it’s none of my business.

Like, really. Not even a little bit. I have no right to be possessive. But I sure am dying to know who just texted Sara, and if it was the same person who messaged her. Twice. She looked at her phone, and she smiled.

So now I can’t stop wondering if those texts were from a man.

Is this a side effect of a concussion? Because I’m definitely fog-headed and sick to my stomach. See also: jealous.

Sure, Sara just finished telling me she’s been too busy with school and internships and studying to have time for relationships. But a woman as beautiful and wonderful as Sara is—not to mention someone as generous and caring—doesn’t go unnoticed. And now I’m imagining her with somebody back in the city. Maybe even several somebodies. If she doesn’t have time to get serious, maybe she just keeps things casual and dates multiple men.

I hate that thought too.

The truth is, I haven’t gotten around to asking Sara about her relationship status, mostly because I’m not sure I want to know the answer. Especially not after I saw the way Carver looked at her. At the time, I rationalized that my instinct was because Nella has a thing for Carver, and that I was just looking out for my sister. But the truth is, I didn’t want Carver seeing Sara as a single woman who’s available. So I put my body between them. Fast.

This has got to be some side effect of the concussion, right? I’m being totally ridiculous, not to mention unfair. I can’t keep Sara away from other men forever. She deserves to be happy. To find love. And I don’t want to be the guy who keeps her from that.

I refuse to be that guy.

I’m a grown man with a reputation for being even-tempered, hardworking, and dependable. I’m not a violent person. So how come my hands balled into fists when Sara smiled at those two back-to-back texts?

Yeah, I know. She’s been out of my life for almost a decade, and whether or not she’s had time for a serious relationship, she’s definitely been asked out by plenty of men since then. She’s kind. Smart. Hilarious. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Of course she’s gotten attention over the years. And from more than just Carver Townsend. So I tried to follow Nella’s advice. I was being myself. Listening to my heart. Making us grilled cheese. And then?—

“Hey.” She pokes my shoulder, and I lift my eyes from my plate. “Are you feeling all right? You’re not dizzy or anything?”

“No, nothing like that.”

She studies my face for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“I think I just ate too fast.”

“Hmm.” She bobs her head, hopefully satisfied by my answer. “Well, that sandwich was just what I needed.”

I clear my throat so my gruff voice won’t give me away. “If you’re done, I can do the dishes.”

“No way.” She throws her palms up. “You cooked, I clean. Those are the rules.”

“Can I at least dry while you wash?”

Her lips curve up. “Nope, thanks.” There’s that smile again. I hope she’s not thinking about Mr. Two Texts. He didn’t make Sara grilled cheese for dinner tonight. He wasn’t in the kitchen with her, just being himself and listening to his heart.

Ugh.

Out of habit, I reach up to scratch my hand along the back of my neck. The bandage there is loose and probably should be replaced. This could be my out to escape and regroup for a moment, to remind myself Sara’s not mine to be jealous and possessive over. “I’m gonna go get a fresh bandage,” I mumble.

Before she can answer, I slip out of the kitchen, and head straight to the guest room. I need to put some distance between Sara and my feelings for her. Unfortunately, the first thing I spot is the blanket piled on the chair in the corner of the room. The same chair where Sara spent the whole night watching over me. Taking care of me. Caring for me.

Could she really care for me again? I wonder if that’s even possible after all these years. After how badly I hurt her.

Forget the fresh bandage and distance. What I really need is some sound advice from someone I trust as much as I trust my sister.

Ford.

He’ll tell me to get a grip. To get over myself and get over Sara Hathaway. So hopefully, the ship still has a working signal wherever they are on the Pacific Ocean. I’d try calling, but the guest room is just down the hall from the kitchen, and Sara’s in there doing the dishes. I don’t want to risk her overhearing our conversation.

So I settle on the bed to text instead. He’s always got his phone glued to him, so if there’s a signal, he should respond quickly. Then again, he’s never been on a cruise before.

Please be there. Please be there. Please be there.

Any chance you’re not stuffing your face at the all-you-can-eat buffet right now? Or bobbing for pineapple chunks in a giant mai tai?

Ford

I’m actually warming up for the limbo contest out on the Lido deck.

A wave of relief washes over me. Ford is there and responding. He’s also about to … limbo.

Didn’t mean to interrupt such vital festivities.

Ford

The contest doesn’t start for another five minutes. And anyway, you’re more important. I was gonna try you earlier, but Nella called dibs after she talked to Carver.

Speaking of which, everyone here knows Sara’s the one taking care of you now. That includes your parents who just returned from a couples massages sporting rosy glows.

Yeah. Nella told me they won some spa treatment, and that’s all the details I need about that. But what’s the general reaction to my being here with Sara?

Bubbles ripple in the text box, then disappear.

Uh-oh. It’s THAT bad?

Nella didn’t mention it, but maybe they all found out Sara’s the one who gave me the concussion.

Ford

Sorry. They just announced the limbo contest is moving to the Aloha deck. As for how everyone’s feeling about Sara, the whole family loves her. She’s awesome. And she was never the problem in your little equation.

You’re not helping.

Ford

With what?

Keeping me from sliding farther down this slippery slope of wanting to reconnect with her. Because I’ve got to tell you, being this close to her again is definitely messing with my judgment.

Ford

Or maybe that concussion snapped some sense into you.

Huh?

Ford

Come on, cousin. You ended things because you didn’t want to interfere with the Hathaway family dynamics. And from the conversations I had with her there at the lake house and again in the ER, she doesn’t sound any less attached to them than she used to be.

BUT. She also used to be awesome. And if anything, she seems more awesome now.

SUPER not helpful, man.

Ford

Just being honest, because I can’t be anything else with you. But maybe Sara CAN be something else.

Like what?

Ford

Like more than just a heartbreak from your past. But you’ll never know if you don’t tell her how you really felt about her then. And how you feel about her now.

Wait. Are you actually suggesting I should TRY to make something work with her?

Ford

I’m suggesting you’re an adult now, so maybe you should stop acting like a kid. How you handled things ten years ago might’ve been understandable when you were nineteen. But now??? Dude. Grow up.

Dude. That’s not being honest. That’s brUTAL honesty …

Ford

Just a bit of wisdom from the future limbo champion of the Aloha deck.

My fingers freeze, and I stare at my phone screen instead of responding. Is this text thread for real? I reached out to Ford expecting a swift kick in the teeth, or at the least a gentle reminder to stop wishing Sara and I might have potential as a couple. Instead, the man’s encouraging me to share my true feelings with her.

Ford

Speaking of limbo, I gotta go. But I do love you, brother. So good luck with Sara. Just remember to trust your gut. And maybe trust her too.

Whoa.

I stick my phone in the charger, and meet my own gaze in the mirror. Trust Sara? Trust my gut? Both feel impossible when my insides are churning. The thing is, Sara still doesn’t know the reason I ended things. And telling her how I truly felt about her—why I did what I did—could make her angry. Or hurt her more. That’s a risk. So is rejection. But I think it’s finally time to be real. I want to be honest about our past and move forward.

The question is, will Sara?

VOTE

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