Chapter 14 Gracie #2
She let out a sigh, sensing that he didn’t want to move or make this a social event. “I like it here.”
“Same.” He put a light hand under her chin, guiding her face up so she had to look at what hung over their heads. “There’s an old Christmas tradition about…mistletoe.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I think I know it.”
They stood there, face to face, the crowd and noise and snow fading into the background as they looked into each other’s eyes. Gracie could feel his warmth through his coat, could smell the faint hint of his cologne.
“Can I watch from the railing?” Olivia called from somewhere behind Gracie. “Please, Dad? I want to be close!”
“Don’t go too far,” he replied, barely taking his gaze from Gracie.
She and Kat took off down the aisle, and then it was just the two of them—under the mistletoe, in the glow of the Christmas lights, the air alive with music and laughter and the sweetest tension.
“This night’s kind of perfect, isn’t it?” she murmured.
“It could be if…”
“If we follow…tradition.” She pointed up, feeling her expression soften as if to give him the permission she could see him silently asking for.
He leaned in slowly, giving her time to move away if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Not even close. The world faded to nothing but the warm curve of his mouth, the snowflakes clinging to his lashes, the faint sound of carols and bells in the distance.
When his lips brushed hers, everything disappeared—no noise, no nerves, no worries. Just him. Just them.
The kiss was slow and tender and wonderful.
When they finally eased back, her cheeks were warm, her eyes still closed. “Wow,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Wow.”
“Wow!” A sharp hand jabbed so hard at the back of Gracie’s shoulder, she actually stumbled closer to Marshall.
Turning, she met the highly amused gaze of Eleanor Locke, who clutched a clipboard and wore a fur hat.
“Would you look at you two!”
Marshall gave an uncomfortable laugh, but Gracie felt way too much blood rush to her face, suddenly aware that Eleanor knew—
“I guess the scheming, matchmaking, and deal-brokering worked.”
“Excuse me?” Marshall asked, his gaze flicking between Gracie and Eleanor.
Gracie opened her mouth to explain, but nothing came out.
“I say whatever gets a man to stand up, take charge, and notice, and you surely did that, Gracie McBride.” She gave a sharp laugh and gave a lusty look to Marshall. “Quite a catch, too. Well done, you two!”
She added a really obnoxious wink and marched off, oblivious to the bomb she’d just detonated.
But Gracie could see the shock in Marshall’s face, a hint of disbelief, a whisper of confusion, and a whole lot of…distrust.
“Wait. What?” he asked, stunned.
She opened her mouth, but still nothing came out. Her mind spun. Why hadn’t she told him? She had no good reason, just general shyness and embarrassment.
“What does she mean?” he asked, an edge in his tone. “Scheming?”
“It’s not what it sounds like,” she managed. “It’s—”
He studied her face, and she could see the realization dawning. “You…did this?”
“I didn’t do anything, Marshall. I—”
“This was a setup? The co-baking thing? You…arranged this?”
“Not exactly…” Her voice wavered with the realization that he wasn’t happy. He wasn’t laughing or giving her a playful elbow or rolling his eyes over the cuteness of it. Not at all.
And that hurt.
“Unbelievable.” He stepped back, shaking his head.
Was it so awful that she liked him and…did a little scheming? Not that she had. The kids had, but she’d gone along with it. “Please. It wasn’t—”
He cut her off with a bitter laugh. “I thought it was real. Authentic. Turns out it was just…a scam.”
A scam?
Before she could say another word, the crowd around them erupted in applause as the music swelled. The skating show had begun.
Gracie turned toward the rink, heart pounding, throat tight. “Can we talk after the show? Please?” she whispered.
Marshall’s jaw clenched. He didn’t answer but stared straight ahead.
On the ice, a troupe of girls came out in rows of three, the Christmas music sounding off-key and shrill to Gracie’s ears.
Was it really that terrible of a thing to have done?
She watched the swirling skirts and spinning skaters, vaguely aware of Red and Benny on the sidelines waiting for their cue. It all blended together in a mess that made Gracie feel sad and sick and sorry she was here.
Glancing over to her right, she saw her family cheering the girls. Nicole and Cameron, arm in arm. Uncle Jack and Aunt Cindy, stealing a kiss. Even Mom looked happy as she clapped to the music and sang the words to a playful Christmas song.
Why wasn’t Gracie over there with them? Safe behind her walls? She’d taken one step out of her comfort zone, and here she was, next to a man she could feel building his own barrier from her, brick by brick.
She’d known about his trust issues—his ex-wife’s lies, the manipulation that had nearly cost him everything. And now, in the space of one careless comment, she’d become part of that same story. Her heart ached that he lumped her in with a woman who’d used him for fame, fortune, or marriage.
They both sat frozen and staring as the second number started, a medley of “Jingle Bell Rock” and “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.” Two girls did a jitterbug routine and two more spun in gorgeous circles. Bells jangled and the crowd clapped and sang along.
A few skaters rolled a big tree to the center of the rink with the bag full of plush toys that Benny would throw. Gracie had come to the last rehearsal and knew every move by now, but the whole performance spiraled into a blur.
“It’s really that awful?” she managed to ask in a raspy voice. “I mean, I didn’t…hurt you.”
Marshall closed his eyes and for a moment, she thought he was going to ignore the question.
“I just wanted to trust you.”
“You can trust me!”
He turned to her, a world of pain in his eyes. “You know what hurts the most?”
She couldn’t imagine. “What?”
“I let myself believe in you,” he said. “After everything with Olivia’s mom, I told myself I’d never get played again. And then you—”
“I wasn’t playing you!” she insisted in a harsh whisper. “Marshall, listen to me. It was a silly plan, that’s all! A way for us to spend time together—”
“Why not just tell me?” His voice was as sharp as a skate’s blade. “Why make it a secret?”
“I…” Am shy? Was scared? Secretly wanted the kids’ plan to work? None of her answers sounded right. “I don’t know,” she admitted on a sad sigh. “It wasn’t very smart.”
He shook his head, gaze locked on the ice. “Guess I should’ve known. Everyone always wants something. Fame, followers, the ‘NFL connection.’”
Her breath caught. “You can’t be serious,” she said. “You can’t think I care about anything like that.”
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “I just feel…used.”
Used? “I don’t care about your past or your fame. I care about you.”
He looked away, lips pressed tight. “I can’t do this again, Gracie.”
After thunderous applause, the notes of the next song started and every onlooker—except these two—started to sing.
You better watch out…you better not cry.
Too late, Gracie thought. The tears were already stinging her eyes.
Benny and Red skated onto the ice together and the place exploded as they slid toward the tree.
Could anyone else see that Benny’s whole reason for being on the ice was to support—literally and figuratively—his great-grandfather?
That he loved the man so much he’d go out in front of the whole town and a couple hundred tourists dressed as an elf so Red wouldn’t fall.
And so his mother might fall…in love.
“This was the deal,” she said under her breath.
Marshall shot her a questioning look. “What…deal?”
She couldn’t explain it here or try to toss blame on the kids. She just swallowed the lump in her throat, wishing she could be anywhere but where she was.
Then Benny started tossing plush toys and Red gave his grumpiest, “Ho-ho-ho,” and waved his finger and mouthed, “I see you when you’re sleeping!”
Benny glided beside him, working the crowd in the front row.
Gracie tried to focus, but her stomach churned. The music picked up. Doing his best Grumpy Santa, Red had his hand over his chest and frowned while Benny threw his arms wide, grinning like a loon.
The crowd laughed and cheered. For a moment, Gracie almost forgot the ache in her chest as she felt her lips move to the big crescendo…
Santa Claus is coming to…
Red stumbled and Benny swooped in to grab him, something she’d seen a few times in practice. Then Red went all the way down, sprawled on the ice, getting a sudden, “Oh!” from the crowd.
As that quieted, so did the music, and suddenly, Benny’s high-pitched wail of terror cut through everything.
“Grandpa! Grandpa! Help! Someone help my grandpa! Please!”
There was a beat of silence, then the chaos of yelling and skates scraping and Gracie realizing that she was whimpering and crying out at the same time.
“Red! Benny! Oh, my God!” She shoved past Marshall as if nothing and no one could stop her from getting to the ice, but he snagged her hand.
“Be careful, Gracie!”
She ignored the warning and moved before her mind caught up. She shoved through the barrier, boots slipping on the edge of the ice.
“Red! Benny!”
Benny’s sobs echoed through the cold air. “He’s not moving!”
Cameron shot past her, calling out orders for someone to call 911 as he practically flew toward Red.
Cindy and MJ were running from the other side of the rink, Jack right behind them. Marshall was beside Gracie in an instant, steadying her as she stumbled onto the ice, heart hammering.
When she got to Benny, Red lay crumpled, his red hat fallen askew, his face as white as his beard and his eyes closed.
“I’m a medic!” Cameron yelled as he slid next to Red. “Everyone back up! Let me get his pulse!”
A pulse? This couldn’t be happening.
She wrapped her arms around Benny, falling to the ice, oblivious of the cold as she hugged her vibrating, weeping son.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s going to be okay.”
But she didn’t know that. She didn’t know anything except the sound of sirens in the distance and a glance at Marshall standing away from the circle, looking as stricken as Benny.
Christmas lights blurred, voices shouted, her breath came in ragged gasps. Somewhere, someone was saying they had a pulse. Somewhere else, she heard her mother sob.
But all Gracie could do was hold Benny and stare at her grandfather as more first responders arrived.
“Please,” she whispered again. “Please, Red. We can’t lose you.”
And as the medics took over, Marshall’s shadow loomed beside her, silent and stunned.
The night that had begun in magic and mistletoe shattered into a thousand jagged pieces of fear.