Chapter 1
brIAR
“Ordering for the both of you?” Dawson asks as I approach the Sip and Savor counter Thursday afternoon.
I glance at my watch. “Yeah, might as well.”
I notice the tic in his jaw as he turns away, and I wonder if his twin’s tardiness annoys him too. Not that I’m irritated enough to call Nathan on it. We’ve been dating for about three months now, and though we’re both busy, I do wish he’d give me a heads-up if I’m going to be waiting on him.
I clear my throat and make small talk with Dawson instead.
One of the perks of meeting Nathan here today.
Truth be told, I miss our chats and flirty banter because this small-business owner is a hottie, especially since he’s been sporting some scruff, but I was never sure if he shared the sentiment.
When I found out Dawson has a twin and said twin asked me out, I figured it was a win-win.
Except the brothers are nothing alike, and not only because Dawson’s blond hair reaches his shoulders while Nathan keeps his cropped and his jaw clean-shaven.
But maybe that’s a good thing. Where Dawson is kind, compassionate, and has this quiet confidence, Nathan owns any room he walks into.
In fact, I noticed him as soon as he entered the gym in our office building and began pumping weights.
His self-assurance draws attention, and he’s very aware of it.
Not that he’s arrogant or flaunts it, just that his charisma and decisiveness take center stage.
Nothing seems to ruffle his feathers, and I figure I could learn a thing or two about letting stuff roll off me.
Like his constant tardiness. And lately his last-minute cancellation of dates.
“Any plans for the holiday?” Dawson asks, breaking me out of my increasingly frustrating thoughts. He places Nathan’s protein smoothie beside my latte on the counter. His plaid shirt is rolled to the elbows, and his smile is one of genuine curiosity.
I breathe out because Dawson is charming in his own way. He makes me feel calm, which might be what drew me to him in the first place. “Oh, every Christmas I head home.”
“Maine, right?”
“That’s right.” His recall for details is impressive. “I was raised in a picturesque small town called Bright’s Hollow, and though that’s the exact reason I moved to the Boston area, it’s perfect for the holidays.”
“Well, now you’re making me jealous. I’m picturing snow, smoke curling from the chimney, and a roaring fireplace.”
“If you include a huge decorated tree in the town square as well as lights strung from each shop, you’d be right.”
“Nice. Just like those Christmas movies. I’ve always wanted to spend the holiday in a town like that.” His eyes light up. “As for the movies, I’m not ashamed to admit I’m addicted. There’s just something soothing about them.”
“They have a formula that obviously works, no matter how unrealistic.”
“Oh, come on. What’s unrealistic about leaving the big city to celebrate the holidays in your small town, only to find the love of your life was right under your nose all along?”
I huff out a laugh, having no doubt Dawson would enjoy my hometown. Nathan on the other hand…
“How about you?” I ask. “Any plans for the holidays?”
Actually, his answer might give me a heads-up on how to handle the topic with his brother.
I know they grew up outside the city, and from what he’s told me, his parents were able to retire young and they like spending time abroad.
Pretty ideal if traveling is your dream.
The thought niggles at my gut. They’ve traversed the world, whereas I’ve only managed one continent and scenic local attractions as an adult.
My parents never had the means to travel very much, not given how busy our family farm keeps them.
They’ve barely been able to keep their heads above water year-round, selling small-town favorites, from hanging baskets in the spring to live trees in the winter.
“Not sure yet about the holidays this year…” Dawson replies. “My parents will be skiing in Europe. They invited me along, but I might just stick around here.”
That doesn’t sound very festive. “Because of your shop?”
“Nah, I’ll still close up shop for the week.” He shrugs. “Might have a low-key holiday this time around.”
Just as I’m about to ask about Nathan, he sweeps through the door.
“I see you’re still on time as ever,” Dawson deadpans, and Nathan rolls his eyes.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says, but given his nonchalance, he’s not sorry at all. “My meeting ran over. It was hard to get away.”
“No problem.” Nathan and I definitely share that rat-race mentality. I’m in software sales. A project manager, to be exact, and customer service is top priority, like it is for him in the marketing world. I have no doubt he’s good at his job. He could probably sell water to a drowning man.
As another customer steps up to the counter, we take our drinks to a table by the window, and I’m glad it’s far enough away that Dawson can’t hear our conversation.
Although I might chicken out. Nathan intimidates me in a way Dawson doesn’t.
My parents always point out that I tend to gravitate toward successful, self-assured businessmen—and that they always end up disappointing me.
That I’m in love with the idea of love but never date anyone good enough for me, with the exception of Mark, my first love.
But ever since he broke my heart, I’ve had the most horrible track record in choosing men.
So this time I plan on proving them wrong.
Three months is a milestone for me, and despite Nathan’s self-confidence, he hasn’t treated me unkindly like the others—at least not on purpose.
We talk about work and the mild winter weather until I finally bite the bullet.
“Dawson mentioned your parents are spending the holiday in Europe,” I say, not meeting his gaze—and isn’t it strange that I hear this kind of news from Dawson more often than I do from Nathan? It never hit me until this moment.
When he doesn’t answer right away, I get up the nerve to look at him. His nose is buried in his phone. “Uh, sorry, was responding to a customer.”
“You seem pretty distracted lately. Is it all work?”
He looks up at me. “Yeah, just got a lot on my plate. In fact, I wanted to talk to you ab—”
“Will you come home with me for the holiday?” I blurt out, cringing when Nathan only blinks and stares like I’d asked him to elope.
I want a hole in the floor to open up and swallow me and my big mouth. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just…I asked my parents last night, and they would love to meet you.”
“Asked if you could bring me home?” I’ve never heard that pitch of his voice before. “But we’ve, uh, only been dating a couple of months.”
Three months. Well, two months and twenty days, but who’s counting.
And now I feel like absolute crap. And given how strange Nathan sounds, he’s probably mortified that I’d asked him at all.
I should’ve known better. I always idealize these situations and then end up alone.
I want what my parents have, but maybe they’ve set the bar too high.
“No, you’re right, it’s only that…Dawson mentioned your parents won’t be around.”
“Glad my brother tells you all our business.” He throws him a look, even though Dawson isn’t even facing our way.
“He doesn’t. He, uh…” I’m flustered. Why wouldn’t I know his business? We’re dating, for Christ’s sake, and the holidays are approaching. “It was only small talk.”
“Yeah, I know.” Nathan sighs. “Listen, it’s nice of you to ask, but—”
“Sorry if I overstepped. I know we haven’t been dating long, but I thought maybe you could use time away from the city.”
“Actually, I’m the one who should be sorry.” He frowns. “That’s what I wanted to talk about.”
He did start to tell me something before I blurted out my invitation. Leave it to me to jump the gun.
Nathan averts his eyes. “I think we should take a break.”
Oh shit. This is normally how it goes for me, and I should’ve known better. Should’ve read the signs. The tardiness, the cancellations, the lack of enthusiasm for phone calls and the evasiveness when it came to any concrete plans. You’d think I’d finally catch a clue.
He pushes a hand through his hair. “I just wasn’t ready to get so serious, and you asking me to meet your parents tells me we’re not on the same page.”
“No, I…” My shoulders slump. Why even bother denying it? “You’re right. We’re not.”
When our eyes connect, I can see how uncomfortable he is, and his quick glance toward the door tells me he’s hoping to make a quick escape.
He crumples up his napkin and lifts his half-empty drink. “I hope working in the same building and using the gym won’t make it awkward.”
“No, of course not.” I straighten my shoulders with whatever dignity I have left. “We’re both adults.”
My stomach bottoms out as he stands and says his goodbyes. He can’t get out the door fast enough, but I’m rooted to my spot. I’m speechless and bummed and can already hear myself making excuses to my parents for my bad taste in men.