7. Bar
BAR
Having Joy’s full attention turned on him created a vibration in his chest that Bar had never experienced before. Everything inside him wanted to stand up and take notice with the same intensity that he normally brought to settling boardroom deals and resolving office disputes. It felt as if Joy had become the only thing in the room, shining brighter than the Christmas lights.
“I’ll try,” he said slowly. “But it’s complicated.”
Joy smiled at him, which sent a wave of tingling through his entire body, and took a bite of the cookie. His attention was riveted on her pink lips and the small, practical fingers. There was a crumb on the corner of her mouth. He had to suppress the urge to reach out and brush it off.
“So is mine,” she said, looking at him briefly before darting her gaze down and to the side. “I mean, I don’t know how to tell you what you want to know, although I can try. So we’re on equal footing there, at least.”
Bar took a breath. Telling her about the land meant bringing up things he hadn’t talked about with anyone. He groped for a way to explain without delving too deeply into the private side of the matter.
And yet, he wanted to talk to her about it. It wasn’t just that he felt as if she would listen without judgment. He might have found that in other people. But he wanted to hear what she thought about it— her , Joy, not anyone else.
“The basic issue is pretty straightforward,” Bar said. “The land was under a fifty-year lease from my family. It expired a couple of years ago.”
“Wouldn’t someone have noticed?” Joy asked. She took another distracting bite of her cookie.
“Uh—that’s where things start to get complicated. All my family’s assets are invested in the family business.” He winced a little as the corporate-speak fell out of his mouth. “My mom—isn’t around any more, and my dad managed everything. That is, until he died this spring.”
Joy instantly lost her curious/intrigued/slightly amused expression, and stared at him with shock and sympathy. “Oh, no. Bar, I’m so sorry. Was it—sudden?”
“Yes.” He swallowed. “It was sudden. An accident. And after Dad was gone, and the business was mine, I found out that what he’d left me was mostly a bunch of debt.”
“I’m so sorry.” Joy reached across the table and took his hand, moving as if drawn by pure instinct. Her fingers were soft and warm on his. “Really, I ... I know we’re in very different circumstances, but something similar happened to me when I was younger.”
He had the sense that she was opening up to show him a tender part of herself, and the door could very easily close forever if he handled it wrong. Her hand tingled against his.
“What happened?” he asked. “If you don’t mind talking about it.”
“It’s all right, I don’t mind. My dad died when I was really young, and then my mom when I was in my early twenties. She was ill for a long time before she died, so I had to take care of her and my little sister, and then when she was gone, it was just the two of us. We had a ton of medical debt from Mom and also for Leah, who needed a series of operations so she could walk.”
Bar ran his thumb across the back of her hand. “At least all I had to worry about was myself. You’re very strong.”
“It’s not a zero sum game,” Joy said. “I mean, just because I had it rough doesn’t mean you didn’t too. It’s hard to lose your parents at any age. So your dad was the one who knew about the lease situation?”
“That’s the thing. I don’t think he did know. The entire company is in a horrendous mess. Debts, mismanaged funds, bills, you name it.” Bar grimaced. “I’ve been trying to clear everything up, but it’s just bad business decisions all the way down.”
“Are you going to lose everything?”
“I hope not. The land the lodge stands on might be my one big chance to turn things around. Unlike almost everything else we own, it’s not mortgaged to the skies. I just need to get the paperwork signed so we clear up any lingering uncertainty about the ownership, and then I can start to rebuild my family’s legacy.”
The word simply slipped out. Legacy. There it was again, woven into everything he did, everything he was.
Joy frowned. “What about Hester and everyone else at the lodge?”
“Look, I’m not trying to be the bad guy here,” Bar protested. “I’m willing to work out a deal. I came up here this weekend hoping I could get her on board with?—”
“Get who on board with what?” said a cool voice.
Bar had been too lost in Joy, in the sympathy in her eyes and her hand in his, to notice Hester’s approach. Now both of them hastily jerked their hands back, like kids caught making out by their parents. Hester stood beside the table in a kitchen apron with a spatula in one hand. She looked like she was about to wallop someone with it.
“Good evening, Ms. Hatherill,” Bar said politely. “Apologies if you overheard part of a private conversation. You’re welcome to join us if you like.”
“Hrmph,” Hester said. “I’m working, so no.” She looked at Joy, and addressing her remarks mostly to Joy, went on, “I’ll have some drinks out shortly. We’re understaffed in the kitchen tonight.”
“Do you want any help?” Joy asked. “I do know my way around a kitchen.”
Hester thoughtfully tapped her other hand with the spatula. “Maybe tomorrow, if you don’t mind. Tonight, I’m just going to thaw out some frozen meals. They’re professionally made, not the ones from the freezer aisle in the grocery store,” she added defensively—this was aimed at Bar. “We have spaghetti and meatballs, and veal with mashed potatoes.”
“Spaghetti sounds great to me,” Joy said.
“I would be delighted with veal,” Bar said.
Hester regarded him levelly. “On second thought, we might be out of veal.”
“In that case,” Bar said without missing a beat, “I would enjoy spaghetti just as much. Please choose for me and do not deprive yourself.”
Hester made another hmph noise and turned to go.
“Excuse me, could we also have two waters?” Joy asked.
Once Hester was back in the kitchen, Bar said, “You can go eat with your sister and her friend. At this rate you’re going to make yourself a pariah as well.”
“I’m not worried. Also, I think it’s warming up in here. What were you saying when Hester walked up? Get her on board with what?”
Bar shook his head. “It doesn’t really matter. I just wanted to see if I could make her see reason, I guess.”
“How is she not seeing reason?” Joy’s warmth had cooled slightly. “She and her husband love the lodge. I barely know them, but I can see how invested they are in the place.”
“I’m not kicking them out like an evil developer in a 90s romcom,” Bar said, exasperated. “No matter what she seems to think. It’s just that the land needs to stay in my family.”
“Why?”
How did you explain the unexplainable? He was still groping for the words to try when their food arrived, brought not by Hester, but by a handsome man with curly dark hair who Bar presumed was her husband. With a flourish, he placed a steaming microwave dish of spaghetti and meatballs in front of Joy. And with a slightly apologetic air, he placed a dish of half-frozen veal in front of Bar.
“Enjoy,” he said, and beat a hasty retreat back to the kitchen.
Bar tapped it with his fork. It made a slight clunking sound. He noticed that Doreen and Leah, who had already received their food and nearly finished it, kept giving them curious looks across the room.
“This is ridiculous,” Joy said with a sigh. “We could trade. I really don’t mind. I like veal.”
Bar smiled. “No. This, I can do something about.”
He leaned forward, opened his mouth, and breathed out gently.
The warmth that had kept him from freezing in the chilly room, at the expense of a bit of energy, rose up inside him now and curled out through his mouth. For an instant, he glimpsed the flickering of tiny tongues of flame over his meal. Then he closed his lips. The veal was steaming.
He looked up at Joy, who was gazing at him in shock and wonder.
“You’re—” she began, and stopped. “What are you? I thought you were a shifter, but I—I’ve never seen a shifter who could do that.”
“I’m a dragon.”
He spoke low, not sure how she would react. Her eyes lit with delight, bright as the Christmas lights draped around the room.
“I knew you were special,” she whispered, leaning forward. “I knew it, I knew it.”
“You shift too, right?” Bar asked. It was wildly exciting to be able to talk about this hidden part of himself. “If you don’t mind my asking, what do you turn into?”
“Nothing so exotic as a dragon. I’m a squirrel. A Malabar giant squirrel, to be specific.”
“That sounds exotic to me. I’d love to see you shift one of these days.”
“I think that could be arranged.” Her warm gaze dropped from him to the food, then went back to him. “No wonder you weren’t cold. Your hand felt so warm—” She stopped abruptly, as if remembering what it felt like to hold his hand.
“I feel the cold, but I can keep myself warm,” Bar said. “I do get hungry when I use my flame.” He was starving now; it was all he could do not to plunge onto the veal as if his inner dragon was diving on a fat sheep.
“Oh, sorry, I’m stopping you from eating. I’m hungry too.”
She forked up some spaghetti. Bar let go of his rigid self-control and dived in, although he managed to hold himself down to polite table manners rather than simply putting his face in the food and inhaling.
The food occupied them for a little while. Hester eventually even showed up to deliver their water. Time seemed to fly past and, at the same time, stretch out endlessly. Bar thought that he could have spent the entire evening here with her, surly waitstaff and underheated food aside, and barely noticed anything in the room but her.
“You know, I’ve decided something,” he said. Joy looked up from twirling spaghetti onto her fork. “I don’t want to know why you think you know me. Not yet. I want that to be the last thing I find out about you.”
She was looking at him curiously now. She had gorgeous, warm brown eyes. “Why?” she asked.
“Because I want to get to know you first, especially if it turns out that my family stole your family farm or something.”
Joy laughed, a charming, delighted gurgle. “You didn’t.”
“Shhh.” He reached a hand across the table. His finger came to rest on her full, warm lips, and her eyes flew wide, her lips parted slightly under his fingertip.
Bar had to pull his hand back quickly before he succumbed to the temptation to caress her soft-looking cheek. “No spoilers,” he added, still feeling the vivid sense-memory of that swift, sudden movement as her lips had brushed his fingers.
“I ... all right.” She started to raise a hand to touch her mouth, then took it down. When she looked at him again, her gaze was hot and full of challenge. “Okay, let’s make a new deal, then. How long are you at the lodge for? I remember you might have said, but I don’t recall exactly.”
“Until the day after Christmas.”
“Me too.” Today was the day before Christmas Eve. It had seemed like a lot of time to Bar, who hadn’t had a vacation in ages, even if this was a working sort of vacation. Now it wasn’t nearly long enough.
“Three days,” Bar said. “Actually more like two full days. Is that enough time for whatever you have in mind?”
“It’ll have to do. My deal is, don’t sign anything yet. I want to spend those three days trying to change your mind about taking possession of the lodge. Maybe we can work out a new deal that’ll be good for you and for Hester and everyone else here.”
Bar couldn’t help smiling a little. She was so earnest that it made his heart ache; he didn’t know what it would feel like to be that innocent. “I’m not going to say no to anything that gives us a chance to spend time together, but I don’t think I’m going to have a sudden change of heart and catch the Christmas spirit in the next two days.”
Joy grimaced. “If anyone shows up in your bedroom rattling chains, I had nothing to do with it.”
“What?”
“Nothing. So tell me, do you actually hate Christmas? Or is it just not really a big thing for you?”
“What makes you think it’s not a big thing?” Bar asked quickly. He hadn’t meant to give that much away. There was something about her that teased out his secrets, that made him want to talk to her.
“Well, for one thing, you’re up here at the lodge trying to close a business deal over the Christmas weekend.”
“It’s not my favorite holiday,” he said. To say the least. “So yeah, okay, if you can make me like Christmas in the next two days, then maybe you’ll convince me to give up my family business and save the lodge.”
“You said yourself that it’s not either-or. It doesn’t have to be saving your business or taking the lodge away from Hester. There’s got to be a compromise we can work out.”
“Well, you have two days to find one,” Bar said. “What about you— are you all-in on Christmas, ugly holiday sweaters, the works?”
“It’s sort of complicated,” Joy admitted. She forked up the last of her spaghetti, accepting the conversational redirection with grace. “Mom was Jewish, and Dad passed when I was pretty young. So we grew up with Mom sort of going through the motions so we could still have the Christmas we wanted, but it was more the Jewish traditions I felt connected to as a kid.”
“Like Hanukkah?”
“Well, yeah, but Hanukkah’s not really a big holiday in the Jewish tradition. Sukkot was my favorite, actually.”
“I don’t know that one.”
“It’s in the fall. It’s kind of like the Jewish harvest festival, I guess. You build a bower in the backyard so you can eat and sleep under the stars. When I was a little kid I was also all about Purim, because you know, presents and food, but with Sukkot, I just liked the camping out aspect and how special it felt to sleep outside, at least when the weather was nice.”
Bar could easily picture her curling up to sleep under the stars. “That sounds lovely.”
“Yes, although after my parents both passed, it just kind of became this ... scramble, I guess, to try to make things nice for Leah at all the holidays from both sides of our family. I’ve been so busy making things good for her, I feel like I hardly had time to stop and enjoy them myself.”
“You had to stop being a kid and do the adult things before you were ready.”
Joy blinked at him, and from the look on her face, he thought she might be having a similar experience to how he had felt earlier, a little too exposed with secrets revealed that he hadn’t meant to give away. “Yes,” she said. “Exactly.”
Now it was Bar’s turn to reach across the table and take her hand. “Joy, I’m looking forward to the next two days. Maybe you can change my mind, and that’s not something I would have said before I came up here—that it was even possible.”
He was in danger of becoming lost in her eyes, which of course was the moment at which Doreen loomed above the table, accompanied by Leah.
“Hi, Joy!” Leah said brightly, as Joy hastily recovered her hand. “Doreen’s invited us to watch a movie. The internet isn’t good here, but the lodge has a nice selection of DVDs and a big screen in the lobby.”
“I, um—” Joy looked at Bar.
“Go on,” he said, smiling. “You should relax and enjoy yourself. I think I’m going up to my room. I could stand to turn in early tonight.”
“Oh no, what a shame,” Leah said insincerely. “Goodbye!”
Joy heaved a sigh. She put her napkin on the table and got up. “It appears that I am summoned. You’re welcome to watch a movie with us, if you like.”
Leah looked as if this wasn’t what she’d had in mind at all.
Bar was tempted to do it just to find out if the sister would glare at him all night, but he didn’t want to ruin Joy’s good time. “No need to worry about it.” He smiled up at her. “I’m looking forward to starting our ‘deal’ bright and early tomorrow, so I need a good night’s sleep.”
Joy smiled back, ducked her gaze, and turned as her sister locked an arm around hers, somehow still manipulating the crutches, and began to steer her away. Leah’s whisper was piercing. “Deal! What kind of a deal did you make with him?”
“None of your business!” Joy retorted.
Doreen remained standing at the table, arms folded, looking down at him. Bar returned her stare. At least she didn’t have a wrench. “Can I help you?”
“These people are my friends, I want them to be safe and happy, and right now the greatest threat to them is you,” Doreen said. “I don’t know Joy and Leah very well yet, but Joy seems like a very sweet person.” She scowled at him. “Is she your mate?”
“What on earth kind of question is that?” Bar said, startled, though from inside him there was some kind of inner heart clutch. He had heard vaguely of fated mates, wasn’t sure whether to believe in them or not. The question had caught him off guard; the real answer was more like, How am I supposed to know?
“Well, there’s that, then,” Doreen said. “All the more reason to stay away from her, I’d say.”
With that, she turned and left.
Bar ate the last of his veal in silence. That could probably have gone better.
Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow he would have an opportunity to spend time alone with Joy, with no disapproving younger sisters or glowering lodge staff around.
It was the first time that he had truly looked forward to anything in a while. He might even sleep well tonight, thinking of her, even as he yearned for her warm body in the bed next to him.
Fated mates. Who believed in that? He believed in what he could see and touch. But Joy, he was starting to think, could make him believe in all kinds of things.