Page 163 of Holidating
“Oh, it is.” He chokes back a nervous laugh. “Maybe this hadn’t occurred to you, but I don’t take most clients Christmas shopping. Or out for pizza. I don’t toss my nephew’s baby seat into the car just for anyone who wants a ride on Thanksgiving. It’s only you, Nicky Nicole.”
She gulps. “You neversaidanything.”
“Yeah, no kidding. I was the broke guy living in a double-wide. You were the rich girl in the mansion.”
Her eyes bulge. “Do I strike you as someone who judges people by how much money they have?”
Hell. “No,” he admits. “But it’s not just about money. I was the taxi driver with a high school education. And you were the college girl who’d seen the world. I couldn’t imagine why you’d be interested in me. Not to mention that we were friends. And I valued that friendship a lot, even if I wasn’t very good at showing it.”
She blows out a breath. “None of that should have prevented you from telling me the truth.”
“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” He shrugs. “I was all tied up in knots about it. But Zara was there that night too, so I let her decide. And she thought you needed to know.”
“She’s right.” Her eyes fill. “I did need to know.”
She looks so sad that Damien pulls her in for another hug. And he’s a little bit horrified by the way she starts to cry into his flannel shacket. Because he’s not good at this. He’s been single for much of the last fifteen years, because it’s hard to find love when you’re gone for your favorite taxi client.
“I’m…sorry.” She sniffles.
“It’s okay. This is washable.”
She laughs against his chest, and he kisses her on top of the head.
Mmm flowers, his asshole brain says.
He rests his chin on the spot where he’s just kissed her and pats her back. Maybe he’s not so bad at this. Not really.
Then his phone pings.
“Do you have to get that?” she asks.
He slips it out of his pocket. “It’s my sister, telling me she wants to serve dinner. Come on.” He takes her hand and stands up. “Come with me. It’s Thanksgiving. Have you already eaten turkey?”
“Theoretically,” she says, looking weepy. “But I kind of left in the middle of dinner. My dad is pissed off that I divorced Cam. They have a lot of business together.”
Damien closes his eyes for a brief second and fantasizes about punching Mr. Overland, a man he’s never met. “Your father is puttingbusinessin front of your mental wellbeing?”
She cringes. “It’s what he does best. When I told him Cam was a serial cheater, he said, ‘That’s just how some men are.’”
“The terrible ones,” Damien says gruffly. “Jesus.Come with me, okay? You shouldn’t be alone right now, and I have a very loud family. It’s like a TV family, but worse.”
“Are you sure it’s okay if I just show up? On a major holiday?”
“Oh, I’m positive,” he says. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 13
ON THE RADIO: SIMPLE GIFTS
This ought to be really weird, is all Nicolette can think as she rides along to crash Damien’s Thanksgiving holiday.
But somehow, it’s not. It feels like hitting the reset button on her life. Cam doesn’t exist today. Not when she’s seated snugly beside Damien as he steers them down another country road.
Sitting here always felt right to her, and today is no different.
The Jeep slows down across from the Busy Bean coffee shop. Damien makes a turn toward the center of Colebury. From the backseat comes a small complaint.
“Oh, buddy,” Damien says, reaching into the back without removing his eyes from the road. “We’re almost there.”
