Page 27 of Love in the Details

He glanced up at her through hooded eyes and smiled, the look causing her stomach to do somersaults.

“This is true. My headaches haven’t been quite as bad the past week.”

They ate their food in silence, and for some reason, Kassidy felt like she needed to keep the conversation going.

“What are your Christmas traditions?” Why was it when she was talking to him that the most ridiculous things popped out of her mouth? He was Mr. Billionaire. Of course he had things to do and places to go for the holiday.

His eyes got a faraway look, and he smiled for a few seconds before his expression turned to a frown. “I’m not really sure we have any outside the gala. There were things my parents used to do for me, before the accident, and my grandparents tried to keep those alive through the years.”

“So, what kind of things?”

He tilted his head to the side, his eyebrow raised as if questioning her motives.

Kassidy raised her hands and said, “I’m not going to sell the information toColdwater Creek Gazette. I just like hearing about people’s traditions and thought it might help put a few personal touches to the gala.”

He set his fork and knife down before lifting his napkin to wipe around his mouth. Kassidy could see he was trying to come up with something to share. “It’s been a while since I’ve thought of it, but a tradition from my mother’s family was to hide a pickle in the tree.”

Kassidy tried to keep from laughing, but she had to cover her mouth with her hand for a few seconds while she got things under control. His serious expression told her he’d just shared something deeply personal.

“I’m sorry, a pickle? In a Christmas tree?” She could imagine a wet pickle sitting on a branch, dripping juice all over the ornaments below.

Dustin searched her face, and then something clicked, causing him to laugh. “Not a real pickle. It was a glass one. Whoever found it first got an extra present to open, usually a bag of candy or something small. But since I was the only child, guess who always got it?” He pointed to himself at the same time Kassidy said, “You.”

She chuckled. “An only child. That would be different. The house would be much quieter anyway, instead of all my brothers fighting or smelling up every room they enter.” She cringed, remembering how she’d actually started scrubbing around their toilet while she waited for word about this job. “So how did the tradition of the pickle start?”

“My mom’s family comes from Germany, and I guess it’s something they do over there. I never asked for the full details.” He shrugged, picking up his silverware again. “What about you? What traditions do the McBrides follow every year?”

Kassidy shook her head, laughing. “I don’t even think I could name all of them. I think each person in the family has come up with at least three or four things we have to do in December. And now, with in-laws coming in, it’s looking like we’ll have to start celebrating on Black Friday to get them all in.”

“That many, huh? What’s your favorite?” he asked, breaking apart his roll and slicing a small section from the butterball.

“Gingerbread houses. Okay, so they aren’t technically gingerbread every year. Sometimes my mom just uses graham crackers when she doesn’t have much time, but we get pretty intense. We have judges even.”

Dustin laughed, lifting the back of his hand to cover his mouth while he chewed and swallowed. “You have judges for your candy houses?”

“Oh yeah. It’s seriously fun.” Kassidy saw his excitement, and the next words were out before she had a chance to think. “You should come.”

“Decorate a candy Christmas house?” He reached up and tugged at his collar. “I’m more of an analytical guy. Creative is not something people would use to describe me, and if there are judges, I think I might sit that one out.”

Shaking her head, Kassidy said, “Not a chance. You haven’t celebrated Christmas until you’ve joined in a McBride family gingerbread-house-making competition.”

“That is quite a mouthful.”

“But you’re coming. You can take a night off from work and enjoy a little Christmas cheer.” She smiled, surprised at how much she wanted him to agree. With his suit coat off, she had to avoid glancing down at the button-up shirt pulling against his biceps. Every time she did that, she thought about his arms around her as they tumbled down the sledding hill.

He stared at her, his eyes bluer at the moment, looking like a piece of the night sky. “I think I can make that work.”

Now that she thought of it, inviting him was the worst idea she could have proposed. Competition ran strong in the McBride blood, and this was just one of many events to boast about for the entire year after.And her brothers would never let her live it down.

After dinner wrapped up, he drove her over to pick up the three boxes the owner of the boutique store had held for her. Once they headed back to Coldwater Creek, Kassidy tried to keep her thoughts on what she needed to do tomorrow for the gala. Time was a small commodity. But instead, she was replaying the conversations at dinner.

Nothing signaled that this had been a real date. Sure, he’d paid for the meal, but the whole feel had been that it was a business meeting. At least she’d had company on the long drive to Jackson.

But she wanted it to mean something more, wanted it to be the catalyst to a relationship. It would be awesome to think back on tonight as a memory she’d keep forever. And yet, there was still a weird formality between them that she was sure she’d just broken.

He hadn’t come to a decision about closing the plant in town either, and she wondered if he did end up closing it down, would she be hurt? Or could she understand it from his point of view?

Focus on the gala. The gala was the key to her future as an event planner, and from there she could figure out where she wanted to be and who she wanted to be with. If he didn’t have plans to stay beyond Christmas, she wasn’t going to push the issue.

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