Page 47 of Christmas Cove

Though they didn’t know who she was, her confident and relaxed posture commanded attention from everyone in the room. She sent Leo a knowing side glance as he twirled her around before catching her in his arm.

He took her left hand in his and her waist in his right. The room stood still in the breath just before the music began. A Christmas waltz. Leo knew this one well. He took her through the steps, and she followed his lead like a pro.

As the music swelled and diminished to a close, he captured her gaze. She radiated happiness.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” America said breathlessly.

“YouTube.”

America whacked him in the belly as she laughed. “You did not!”

He liked teasing her. “Of course I didn’t. My Aunt June insisted on weekly cotillion classes.”

“You surprise me.”

“I try,” Leo said and held her close.

Her arms draped over his shoulders and her head rested near his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered. “This is exactly what I imagined before I came here.”

“You imagined dancing with a dashing, yet approachable public servant in a snow-themed pavilion with a hundred eyes trained on you while your favorite song is played by a live band, while wearing a stunning gown and falling madly in—”

“Yes,” America answered with no hint of hesitation in her voice, which surprised him.

They had only just met days ago, and couldn’t possibly have such big feelings, let alone talk about it. Leo held her closer at her waist. America’s breath caught ever so slightly at the change in proximity between them. She melted into his embrace as the music permeated the air around them. A crisp chill blew in, and he covered her exposed back with his hands. He felt her tremble under his touch.

In that moment, he didn’t care what happened to the town. He didn’t care about anything other the woman in his arms and making her happy.

“What do you want for Christmas, America?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you could have anything you want.” Leo spoke quietly near her ear as though they were sharing secrets. He hoped she would say she wanted to be with him.

“Well, if I could have anything? I want my article to do well, and I want my parents to get back safely from Italy,” she said. “Why? What about you?”

What about him? He knew he wanted her, but fear seized his tongue. And his nerve. “I want you . . . to get everything you want. That’s it.”

“You don’t want the Cove to be saved?” she asked and backed away a little.

Uncomfortable with his momentary neglect of the town, he shook his head. “Of course, I want that. I just don’t know what to do about the Cove. And this, me and you, is so much easier than dealing with the hard stuff.”

“Can I ask you something?” America spoke while rocking back and forth in time with the music. “I know you moved here so that you could stay connected to the memory of your parents, but after the dam broke, why weren’t you willing to work hard enough and do what it takes to keep the magic alive?”

Her words hit a little too close to the truth. His hands dropped and hung loose at his side while he felt his defenses going up. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, America.”

“I know what I see. I’m not blind to the fact that you have done nothing to keep the Christmas in Christmas Cove, or else it wouldn’t have taken a stranger with zero resources to come here and make things happen. You could have done this years ago, and you didn’t.” America took a breath long enough to grab a glass of prosecco from a waiter’s tray and down it before continuing. “I think you like the pity, but you need to snap out of it before you lose everything.”

“America, I . . . I . . .” It was Leo’s turn to down a glass of prosecco.

“There’s something I don’t understand. Why did you want the magazine to come here in the first place?”

“Me?” Leo began. Confusion twisted his face.

“Yes, you!” America’s ringtone, “The Twelve Days of Christmas”, cut the air between them. She dug in her small clutch and pulled out the phone.

He had never been less happy for a good signal. It was the second time she had insinuated that he had asked the magazine to come there, and the second time his answer was interrupted. They had a lot more to talk to about, and now it would have to wait.

“It’s my boss. I have to take this,” America said and walked towards the entrance of the pavilion furthest from the bandstand.

---