Teresa Southwick - Maverick Holiday Magic

“I really am.” She looked up at him, concern on her little face. “Are you?”

“Sure,” he lied. A falsehood was okay when it was about not spoiling your child’s experience, right? “This is fun.”

“You don’t like it,” she accused.

“No?” Since when did she get so observant. “I really do. Like you said, best wedding ever.”

“Then why do you look so mad and sad at the same time?” she asked.

Damn. He’d been so sure his feelings didn’t show. “Do I?”

“Yes. And you’re all by yourself. It’s dark over here.”

He glanced around the room, at the tables with their flameless candles and the flowers everywhere. There was a three-tiered cake garnished with roses on a separate table. Hanging over the dance area was a crystal chandelier that bathed the guests in a magical glow. The venue was bright and festive but he had instinctively gravitated to the darkest shadows in the room. It didn’t take a shrink to tell him he was instinctively hiding from this celebration of love because it was a reminder of everything he’d lost.

“I like watching everyone dance and this is the best place to do that.” He hoped that would satisfy her.

“Then why do you still look sad?”

So much for her letting this go. “I’m fine, honey. I haven’t seen you dance with Gramps yet.”

“I know. He’s asking all the ladies to dance.”

Hunter easily spotted his silver-haired father waltzing with an attractive brunette. “Yeah. He does that.”

“So does Uncle Wilder.”

“Yeah.” His brother was living up to his name, as usual.

“I have an idea.” Wren met his gaze and hers was full of earnestness.

“I know what you’re going to say.” He grinned at her. “And I should have thought of it myself. You and I should have a dance.”

“No.”

“What?”

“You should ask Merry to dance. That would cheer you up.”

While trying to figure out how to explain that Merry was an employee, Hunter looked over at her. Just then a good-looking man approached the table where she was sitting and held out his hand. Obviously an invitation to dance. Just like that he wasn’t sad anymore. The new feeling was a little unfamiliar, something he hadn’t experienced for a long time. It was also inconvenient and seemed to put a crack in the wall of isolation he’d spent the last six years building.

He was jealous.

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