Chapter 23 #2
Blythe was unaffected. “We have an agreement. You make the music choices and I follow your lead. And I make the holiday tradition choices. We both have a specialty.”
“Well, I’m here, so clearly I’ve bought in.” Darcy glanced between them. “I don’t think you’ve officially met, but Blythe, you know Juliet.”
“We haven’t,” Blythe blithely agreed, before she turned her attention to Juliet. “And who doesn’t? Nice to officially meet you.”
Blythe’s smile agreed with her words, but her eyes didn’t. Right away, Juliet could recognize that while Darcy was brash and outwardly fought fire with fire, Blythe would be keen to fight a much quieter battle.
Unintimidated, Juliet returned the smile with a deeply warm – if not genuine – one of her own. “Likewise.”
Juliet, unfortunately, hadn’t really thought about the fact that Blythe’s biggest impression of her was the whole media madness. While she and Darcy had certainly figured out their own path forward, she hadn’t necessarily considered her sister.
Stupid of her. And Juliet hated to be stupid.
But there was always a pivot. She offered Blythe her hand. “I should actually say: I am really so sorry, about the first impression you had of me. It was not my best foot forward.”
Blythe’s eyebrows lifted high on her forehead as she glanced at Darcy, then back again. She acquiesced, shaking Juliet’s hand. “Well, if it isn’t country’s sweetheart gracing my doorstep.”
Judging by her tone, she definitely wasn’t going to buy in. All right, so that wouldn’t work to mend a bridge so easily with Blythe. But that was fine; Juliet didn’t need Blythe Kincaid to be her friend.
“Just Juliet is fine.”
Blythe released her hand. “All right, come in. Darcy’s forgiven you enough to be sneaking out to your house every night we spend in L.A., so – bygones. It’s not like you’re my nemesis.”
“Whose name is Brenna,” Darcy supplied in a stage-whisper as they walked over the threshold. “Our feud was like a single military strike compared to their Cold War.”
“I admit I’m intrigued by the small-town politics.” Could make for a very interesting song.
Blythe swept by them as they entered the open living area, that looked like Christmas had crawled to life out of all of those classic television movies. “This is a Brenna-free zone today, thank you very much.”
“Hey! Juliet! I’m Colton. Real great to meet you.
” A man she recognized as Blythe’s fiancé both from the Country and Folk Awards and social media waved at her from where he stood on a step ladder, adjusting a star on top of a large tree.
He was hulkingly broad and tall, but had an incredibly disarming smile.
“Nice to meet you,” she returned, putting on her sweetest smile.
Colton’s grew wider at it; clearly, he was a much easier sell than his fiancée.
“Thanks for taking care of your own intro, Colton,” Darcy intoned, amusement in her voice, before it faded as she said, “Emerson, Juliet. Juliet, Emerson.”
“Nice to officially meet you,” Emerson greeted, glancing up from where she was concentrating on weaving red flowers into a wreath. And – huh.
Juliet had heard her in interviews, but she sounded so incredibly quiet without a mic. She almost felt like she was straining to hear her over the music playing through the room.
“All right – popcorn strings,” Blythe stated, nodding over to a table with, presumably, whatever they needed.
She soon learned that stringing popcorn was not a quick task. And Juliet found that she did not enjoy it.
What she did enjoy, though, was watching Darcy do it. Her dexterous fingers strung the pieces of popcorn and cranberries and dried pieces of orange into surprisingly festive patterns, and Juliet…
She sighed, shifting slightly in her chair. She really had a thing for Darcy’s fingers.
“I didn’t know people actually strung popcorn anymore,” she commented, sliding another flake onto her string. “I assumed, if it ever did happen, it was a relic of the past.”
Darcy chuckled, shooting her an amused look.
“You’re probably right; I have no idea if anyone does this anymore.
” For a few seconds, it seemed like Darcy was weighing if she wanted to say something else, before she softly cleared her throat.
“We… uh, it’s something we’ve always done.
Mostly because getting the string and popcorn is super cheap, so even when we were kids, we could always get our hands on it.
Blythe has, obviously, gotten very into decorating for the holidays as we’ve gotten older, but… we’ve always had this.”
She held up the popcorn in front of her, a small, tight smile on her lips as she shrugged.
“I’m sure you have far more grand décor,” Darcy added, nudging her knee under the table.
Then she kept her leg there, pressing warmly into Juliet’s, and she scooted in slightly to press back.
“Not really,” she disagreed, after a beat. She bit at the inside of her cheek, before lowering her gaze intently to the popcorn, as she admitted, “I don’t decorate my house much. And when it comes to family–”
She cut herself off, eyebrows furrowing deeply as words about Harrison and her mom and the tense holidays in Texas tangled into a tight knot in her throat.
But she didn’t want to tell that to Darcy.
Juliet didn’t like to discuss her family at all, with anyone. Even getting as close as she’d just gotten put her on alert with Darcy, though, and her heart pounded a little harder.
She… she did trust Darcy. Trust was her barrier to telling most people anything behind the scenes in her life, but it went deeper than trust with Darcy.
She didn’t want to bring that part of her life in here. In this room, where they had Christmas music playing and Blythe and Emerson and Darcy and even Colton, who could not hold a tune, all sang during random intervals.
None of them were concerned about being in perfect pitch.
Impressively, vexingly, and arousingly, Darcy always was, and it made Juliet shiver every time Darcy sang softly as they sat here at their table.
But none of them snapped at or mocked one another when they didn’t hit the right note or if they screwed up a lyric. It was just – simple.
They weren’t all in here together and decorating for some sort of photo op or publicity stunt; they were all truly here together to work all day on this because it was important to Blythe.
Juliet’s throat felt a little tighter. Ridiculous.
Darcy’s piercing gaze was locked on her, and she knew Darcy didn’t miss a thing. She could feel in her bones that Darcy could see that she’d gone down a road in her mind she didn’t want to discuss.
“When it comes to your family?” Darcy gently prompted, nudging her knee again. So softly, like a little reminder. Like Darcy was saying, under the table, it’s just us.
But, it wasn’t just them. Blythe was routinely checking in on their progress, Colton and Emerson were stringing lights up around the house.
And even if it was…
She straightened her spine. “Nothing, really. Harrison is essentially the king of Prosperity – where I’m from,” she explained.
Darcy didn’t blink. “I know.”
“Right. Well, Harrison hosts a huge festival on Christmas Eve, at the ranch. It’s a massive production, a whole thing. My mom organizes most of it.” She waved her hand. “So, Christmas isn’t much of a thing, outside of the festival.”
“Oh. And… you have two brothers, right?” Darcy asked, that same super intense stare focused on her.
Even though it was public information, Juliet still felt jarred whenever her brothers were mentioned. Especially by Darcy, with whom she’d never talked about them. “Yes,” she replied, succinctly with her standard answer. “They’re twelve and thirteen, so we aren’t very close.”
She could tell by the way Darcy looked at her, by that expression on her face, that she wanted to know more. That she really wanted to know.
But what she’d said was the truth. Harry and Cash were both over a decade younger than she was, and they’d both been under five when she’d moved to spend the majority of her time in L.A.
There were a lot of other family politics in play – Harry and Cash were both being carefully groomed into heirs to Harrison’s ventures, while Juliet was just another one of Harrison’s assets – but…
Insanely, her throat felt a little thick when Blythe called out, “Darcy, you better sing the next verse!” With laughter in her voice.
Darcy snapped her eyes to Blythe, tossing a handful of popcorn in her direction, before immediately turning back to Juliet.
When her phone buzzed where she had it laying on the table, she jumped to answer it. To get away from having this emotional moment right here, in front of not only Darcy but her family.
“It’s Laura.” Her voice was a little thick, but she acted like it wasn’t. She grabbed her phone, standing up. “I have to take this. She’s definitely wondering where the hell I am.”
She knew Laura was, because she’d seen some of the texts from Laura roll in while she’d been at the popcorn table, and she hadn’t responded because she’d been too distracted by Darcy’s hands.
Darcy’s eyes were far too soft. “Did you not tell your faithful assistant what you’re doing today? Where does she think you are? How did you slip her?”
“Oh, Laura’s not in Nashville. She’s not even in the country. She and her family celebrate the winter solstice, not Christmas. I don’t really…” She waved her hand. “Anyway, she flies back home before the week before the twenty-first every December.”
“Huh. I – wait,” Darcy cut herself off before she asked the questions that were undoubtedly forming in her head. “I won’t – you go, answer.”
She escaped to the wraparound porch, finding it easier to breathe as soon as she reached the fresh air. By the time she’d walked over to the railing, leaning heavily back against it, she realized she’d missed Laura’s call.