His Daughter's Mistletoe Mom
Autor
Elizabeth Mowers
Leituras
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25
CHAPTER ONE
CAROLINE WATERSON KNEW the phrase “blast from the past” was something a person could potentially feel when standing up as maid of honor in a friend’s wedding. With a church full of three hundred people, many of them folks she had known her entire life, the nostalgia had come on quite suddenly, making her vision a bit blurry and unreliable. It was why she refrained from doing a double take when she thought she had seen the face of the one person who had frustrated her all throughout her childhood: Dylan Metzger. Blast from the past? More like blast to her senses. One glimpse of his face had sucked the oxygen from her body after slamming into her like a freight train.
As the ceremony continued, Caroline maintained the pleasant smile she had perfected over the years. As a wedding planner, or unfortunately as the assistant wedding planner who ended up doing the brunt of the work for a sliver of the commission, she always tried to disguise the disdain she felt for big weddings. The perfect disguise started with the right facial expression, and it was a lifesaver at a time like this.
Caroline mentally scrolled through the guest list Tyler and Olivia had given her. She had spent long evenings with her best friend, addressing envelopes and writing table place cards. Not once had she ever seen the name Dylan Metzger. That was a name she would have remembered.
Caroline squeezed her bouquet a little tighter and reassured herself that there was no way Dylan was in the church, staring at her. No way. The stress was causing an overactive imagination. Yes, she thought, drawing in a slow breath as Tyler and Olivia finished their vows. She was seeing things.
She stood silently, running through a list of things she needed to fix. She planned to kick out of her heels, at least for a few minutes, and scratch that place on her back that felt like it was abraded by poison ivy. She likened her visions of Dylan to her body being squeezed into a rhinestone dress half a size too small; he sure was pretty to look at, but heavens, if he wasn’t a monster pain in her back.
Caroline watched Tyler and Olivia kiss, each smiling tenderly at one another. After Olivia lost her husband a few years earlier, it was good to see her find love again. As it turned out, the local veterinarian was a perfect match.
After the ceremony ended and the pictures were taken, Caroline waited outside the reception hall for the MC to announce the wedding party as her cousin Faith slid up behind her and smacked a loud kiss on her cheek. As Faith had moved away from Roseley as a teenager and Olivia had only spent summers visiting, to now have both women living in town again and becoming close friends felt like a wish fulfilled.
“I have to tell you,” Faith said, “harvest orange is not one of my favorite colors, but you made this late-autumn wedding work. If John and I had waited to get hitched, I might have chosen a formal affair like this too.”
“Yeah, right,” Caroline said. “You wore blue jeans under your wedding dress, for heaven’s sake.”
Faith considered this for a moment before breaking into a laugh.
“That’s true.” Faith leaned close to now whisper in her ear. “Everyone knows you’re the one who pulled this thing off, by the way. I think I spotted your boss throwing back a cocktail when we first arrived.”
Caroline gave Faith a “you have got to be kidding me” look. Sheila, her boss, sometimes acted less like an event planner with a small business at stake and more like the guest at the party who gets everyone dancing. She was the person you invited as a fun buffer, not the person you hired to coordinate one of the biggest days of your life.
“I’m desperate to get out of there,” Caroline said. “If I could have total control of planning events—”
“None of them weddings.”
Caroline gave her cousin a nod. Faith had for a long time listened to her both bemoan large weddings and daydream instead about planning swanky galas.
Faith continued. “I overheard Sheila talking to the Behrs about a Christmas party.”
“Tex and Bianca Behr?” This was an interesting detail that Caroline appreciated hearing. With Bianca on the hospital board, she wondered if the Behrs wanted to throw a Christmas party for the hospital. “What did she say? Specifically.”
“Bianca said something about it being too bad that Sheila already had a wedding scheduled for Christmas Eve. The big-city event planner she had lined up fell through and now she’s scrambling to find help.”
“A Christmas Eve party for the Behrs...” Caroline said, pondering out loud. “If I could land a contract with them—”
“You mean two of the most prominent people in Roseley?”
“It could be a game changer for me, Faith. I should pitch her.”
“Do it,” Faith said. “Tonight. Here.”
“Here?” Caroline whispered as fresh nerves of excitement rose in her gut like champagne bubbles escaping a fine-stemmed flute. She waited for Faith’s final nod of encouragement even though she had already decided to do it.
Caroline glanced around the vestibule outside the entrance of the hall. At the MC’s announcement the wedding party would be entering soon, everyone had slowly moved inside the hall to take their seats, but something about the entire situation didn’t feel right.
After Faith squeezed her arm and darted inside to find her seat, Caroline found the vestibule too empty. The only “simple” thing about Tyler and Olivia’s wedding was that they had chosen a small wedding party: Caroline and Olivia’s fifteen-year-old son, Micah, who was nowhere to be seen.
Olivia gazed lovingly into her husband’s eyes as Caroline hurried toward them. Both seemed unaware that the teen was missing in action right before they were to be announced.
“Tyler,” Caroline said. “Where’s your best man?”
Olivia blinked as if surfacing from a dream.
“Micah?” she said. “I thought he was here. He followed us from the limo into the hall and then...”
Tyler kissed Olivia’s hand. “I’ll find him. We can’t go in without my best man.”
“You’d better not,” Caroline said. “Isn’t it better for me to walk in without an escort than Olivia?”
“True,” Tyler said, frowning. “I thought this would be easier with only two people in the wedding party, but now half of you is missing.”
“Ideally, your wedding planner should go find him.” Caroline sighed, scanning the hall for Sheila. “But it might take longer to find her than Micah.”
For several years Caroline had kept Sheila’s business afloat by taking care of the details and managing most events, sometimes single-handedly. She had told Sheila that she was planning to leave, planning to start her own event planning business, though she pointed out that she had no desire to poach any wedding clients. If she had her way, she’d never have to plan another wedding for the rest of her life. She had such high hopes for her friends’ marriage, but in general, weddings felt like a big flashy show to celebrate a commitment that didn’t last. At least, that’s what personal experience had taught her.
“This was exactly what I didn’t want to happen, Caroline,” Olivia said. “You’re supposed to be my maid of honor, not the wedding planner. I wanted you to enjoy the day too.”
Tyler peeked into the reception hall.
“I think Sheila is talking to the disc jockey,” he said. “She’s laughing with them about something.”
Caroline muttered to herself. “Of course she is.”
Tyler continued. “Everyone in there has to be pretty hungry. Who knew a photo shoot would take so long? If it comes down to waiting for Micah or appeasing our guests...”
“Knowing my son, he probably sneaked into the kitchen to eat, unaware he’s shirking his escort duties.” Olivia winced at her friend. “Sorry, Aunt Caroline.”
Caroline’s face broke into a warm smile. As irritated as she was with Sheila, she loved how Micah now called her Aunt Caroline. Ever since Olivia and Micah had moved to Roseley, Caroline’s friendship with Olivia had deepened from friendship to something of a sister. And when Micah had started calling her Aunt Caroline, she’d felt solidified as a permanent fixture in the Elderman extended family.
“Don’t worry,” Caroline said. “I’ll find him.”
Caroline hustled around the perimeter of the reception hall, scanning the tables for any sign of a teenager in a tuxedo. She paused outside the men’s bathroom and cracked the door a hair before calling inside. Aside from a few strange looks...
Nothing.
The kitchen was bustling as caterers prepared plates of chicken cordon bleu and pot roast. Just as she had scurried back into the hall, she ran smack-dab into Sheila.
“Caroline,” Sheila said in a huff. “You’re supposed to be with the wedding party. We’re announcing you in two minutes.”
“I’m looking for Micah.”
“He should be there with you.”
Caroline glared at her boss, wondering if Sheila didn’t think she already knew that. Sometimes the woman lacked common sense. As best as she could understand it, Sheila was great at failing up.
“Hence,” Caroline said, her tone tense, “my searching.”
“I’ll just make an announcement,” Sheila said, wafting her hand in dismissal. “He’s got to be around here somewhere. I’ll tell him to come to the vestibule immediately.”
“Don’t you dare,” Caroline said. “That’ll look bad. Just give me a minute to find him.”
“Are you sure?” Sheila called. In lieu of a response, Caroline spun on her three-inch heels and marched through a set of fire doors leading to an empty, adjacent reception hall.
The heavy metal doors clicked shut behind her, ceasing the chattering of the crowd, leaving nothing but the sound of her heels clicking across the tile floor, echoing through the empty hall.
Recently, she’d spent more time in giant halls like this than she’d ever thought she would. Her childhood had been filled with long days of digging for worms, catching fish, climbing trees and trying to snag some of her dad’s attention, which had always been so focused on her brother, Trig. As much as her mother had wished she would “play nice” and “wear something suitable,” it was her father whom she had most wanted to impress. That wasted time hadn’t done her a lot of good. How ironic that she now spent her days “playing nice” with a boss she could not stand while trying to impress clients. Though, if she could impress the right people in Roseley, word of mouth, particularly from the Behrs, could help get an event planning business off the ground—eventually.
When she reached the back doors, she pushed out into the parking lot and strained her eyes looking for Micah hiding among the rows of cars, covered with a dusting of snow. The beautiful autumn leaves had all fallen from the trees ages ago. It felt more winter than fall, occasionally snowing during the day and most nights. Caroline thought it a less-than-ideal season to tie the knot, but once Tyler and Olivia had gotten engaged, they were anxious to get married. They had booked the first date available at a reception hall big enough to accommodate their guests, and they still had to wait six months to wed.
Off in the distance Caroline could hear a basketball bouncing off the asphalt. She believed she’d found the best man. As Caroline was the only female attendant in the wedding, Olivia had let her choose her own bridesmaid dress. The strapless number had looked beautiful during the fittings in a warm bridal shop but as the brisk wind whipped off Little Lake Roseley, she now regretted how revealing it was. The November chill was not forgiving on her bare shoulders. Then again, she hadn’t expected to run around the parking lot without her wrap or a coat.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she hurried outside and fought against the unrelenting cold. Following the sound of hoots and hollers, she darted around the side of the building to discover Micah and another man playing basketball. Her teeth chattered from the cold. Goose pimples prickled every inch of her arms. As she approached the court, Micah spotted her.
“Hey, Aunt Caroline!” he called before turning and tossing a fade-away shot into the net. Under different circumstances she might have warmed at his greeting, but Aunt Caroline was flirting with pneumonia.
“Micah,” she said, wanting to keep her words few and direct. “Come on. Everyone is waiting.”
“Aren’t you cold?” he said, cocking his head to the side as if it just occurred to him that her dress was strapless.
“Freezing. Let’s go.”
Through her chattering teeth, she heard the voice of Micah’s companion.
“You need a coat, Red,” he said.
Caroline did a double take at the man offering her advice. She had been so concerned with getting Micah back to the reception she had not looked past her nephew to identify his friend.
Tucked into a black wool peacoat with the collar flipped up, the man before her snatched her breath away a second time that day. It was now clear that he hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. He was the real thing. Dylan Metzger.
A playful smirk curved Dylan’s mouth as he continued.
“As history has taught us,” he said, “I doubt you’ll accept mine.”
She couldn’t see his eyes at her distance, but Caroline instantly recalled how blue they were. They were the color of the sky after a storm had cleared to brighter horizons. She had not seen them, nor that devilish grin, in nearly twenty years, but with one glance she now had something other than the cold wind to rap tingles up and down her skin.
“Dylan,” she said, her brow pinched so tightly it might have frozen in place. “What are you doing here?”
Her obvious disdain made Dylan laugh so heartily even Micah chimed in.
“Now that’s the Caroline Waterson I remember,” he said. “Still living up to your redheaded temperament, I see.”
“I’m not living up to anything,” she said, finding the feeling in her lips had all but disappeared. If she had a stick, she might have swung it if only to wipe his smug face clear. “I—I...it’s cold.”
“That’s Michigan, honey.”
She blinked hard. Dylan appeared like an apparition after all these years yet could instantly slip back into his old routine of irritating her.
“I know it’s Michigan.” She shook her head. “I’ve lived here my entire life.”
His build had changed—taller, broader. He had facial hair; that was new. It looked good, though he had always excelled in anything he had attempted back when she’d known him. God could certainly be unjust sometimes.
“But still no coat, huh?”
Though deeper, richer, his voice had the same familiarity as when she had been thirteen. It had always caught her in a constant emotional tug-of-war where he was concerned. And that darn smirk of his...
She pursed her lips in defensiveness.
“Micah, we have to go. Now.”
“Wait, one more shot,” Dylan said, jagging and dribbling around her. “Three-pointer!”
He released the ball and sent it soaring through the air, only to ricochet off the rim straight to Micah.
Micah rebounded and dribbled a few times before taking his own shot and cheering as it sank through the net.
“Nice shot!” Dylan called, beckoning Micah with a high five. After their hands collided in a loud smack, Micah darted to retrieve the ball.
“Now,” Caroline said, hating her brash tone but also knowing nothing in the world had prepared her for seeing Dylan Metzger again. Though, she thought as she studied his profile and the faint dimple in his chin, she could no sooner have prepared for winning the lottery.
Caroline shook her head as if to shake away the analogy. Winning the lottery would be an amazing thing, a dream come true. Dylan Metzger had teased her all throughout grade school and middle school and deserved no better comparison than...than...a tsunami leveling cities. Or at least, she thought as she squeezed her arms tighter around herself, he was somewhere between those two options.
“You look like you’re ready to shatter,” Dylan said, striding toward her.
“Still as observant as ever, Dylan,” she said. She tipped her chin up a notch. “I can make do.”
“Nonsense,” he said, peeling off his coat. With a masculine grace she had only ever seen in the movies, he had it wrapped over her bare shoulders quicker than a heartbeat. His body heat still clung to the wool and warmed her skin. She wanted to strip off his coat out of sheer pride, but she couldn’t. On cold nights when she stole out of bed for a moment, she couldn’t wait to dive back under the warm, inviting covers. His coat felt that way now, too cozy and comfortable to refuse. And his scent lingering on the wool...
“Am I supposed to thank you now?”
“Maybe when your lips are no longer blue.”
Caroline pressed her pink-stained lips together as Dylan tipped his head and studied her.
“I take it you didn’t know I was coming to the wedding.” It was true, though she refused to admit it. How she had missed his place card was baffling. “I was a last-minute addition,” he said as if reading her mind. “My, uh, date couldn’t make it, but I wanted to see the old man get hitched.”
“I didn’t think you and Tyler were close.”
“Close enough to get invited. We reconnected when I moved back to Roseley earlier this year.”
Caroline was baffled. Dylan Metzger was back and here to stay?
“Keeping it under the radar?”
“From you? Never.” He grinned, making her tug the coat tighter to keep from tingling.
“The way I heard it,” Caroline countered, “you were climbing the ranks at that big law firm... What’s it called again?”
“Zaggart, Pointe and Hildegarden.”
“Couldn’t cut it?”
Dylan’s eyes twinkled as if he got energy from a little row with her.
“Not quite. I made partner last year.”
“Your dad would have been proud.”
He shrugged and glanced back at Micah. “Maybe.”
Caroline noted the line that had formed between his brows before he turned his attention back to her.
“Are you really home for good?” she asked.
“I’m back indefinitely.”
Caroline pulled the coat tighter around herself. Dylan Metzger had returned to Roseley to stay? Why, oh, why was she just learning about this now? Tyler had most definitely kept this important bit of information from her, just like he must have hidden Dylan’s place card too, though she couldn’t imagine why. He didn’t even know about her history with Dylan. In fact, since Olivia hadn’t grown up in Roseley, neither did she. “New York City wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, huh?” There was a bit of a jeer in her tone. From their history, she knew he expected nothing less. The corners of his mouth lifted.
“Something like that. Disappointed to see me again?”
“Something like that.”
This made him chuckle, which only made heat rise in her cheeks. He was always laughing at her, jesting for sport.
He turned as he led her to a side entrance of the hall. “Let’s get inside, Micah,” he called. “I think you’re holding up the buffet line.”
“Actually,” Caroline said, “it’s a sit-down.”
“Then we’d better hustle.” He grinned from over the top of the messy, hand-knit scarf wrapped around his throat. It did not scream “yuppie from the city.” He was the same old Dylan and yet the scarf signaled that something about him had changed, not that she was going to spend her valuable time trying to figure out what. “You look good, Red.”
“Caroline.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“No one calls me Red anymore.”
“I’ll see what I can do about that. I’ve always been something of a trendsetter.”
She huffed out more annoyance than she knew what to do with. She knew he would settle back into calling her Red again, just as she would fight to keep him from doing it. She would refuse to answer to the name, refuse to acknowledge it, refuse to acknowledge him and the dreamboat jawline he had cut since they had last bickered.
Caroline squeezed her eyes shut and popped them open, determined not to fall back into the gawky girl who had tried to tag along after her big brother and his annoying best friend. Back then she had consistently tried and failed to assert herself as their equal. She had done her best to keep Dylan Metzger from getting under her skin and would have rather died by a thousand snakebites than let him know his teasing directed nearly every decision she had made back then.
Before they reached the door, Dylan sprinted a few steps ahead and pulled it open. Caroline, flooded with a heavy cocktail of adrenaline, annoyance and pride, shot past him and into a hallway that led back to the vestibule. She could see Olivia, Tyler and Sheila waiting for her. The sight of them reminded her of who she was now: a successful, confident woman who refused to let Dylan Metzger get the best of her.
“Save me a dance, Red,” he called before darting into the hall. She wanted to call after him and say something to put him in his place, but he had already disappeared into the crowd. She turned her attention back to Sheila, who motioned for her to take off the wool coat.
“Give it to me,” Sheila said, yanking it off her shoulders before shoving the bouquet into her hands and signaling the disc jockey to begin. Caroline’s shoulders chilled at its absence and reminded her that there were more pressing things to focus on.
“I’m ready,” Caroline said, readjusting her bouquet and slipping a hand through Micah’s offered arm. She was ready for her bridesmaid duties, but Micah was all curiosity.
“Dylan said you two used to be friends.”
Caroline’s stomach flurried. During the wedding ceremony Dylan would have had a great view of her, but the fact he’d managed to bring up her name with Micah while playing basketball and then gone to the lengths to say they had been friends before she had even been certain he was back in town made her huff—loudly.
“Uh, no,” she corrected. “He was friends with my brother, Trig.”
“Why would he say that, then?”
“I’m sure he has a rosier view of the past than I do.”
Micah soured a face. “Why?”
She didn’t want to relive the teasing, nor dampen the admirable esteem Micah had for her. “People remember things differently, I guess.”
“He’s cool.”
“Ha!” Caroline scoffed. “Cool.”
Micah leaned closer, a taunt in his voice. “Should I call you Aunt Red now?”
Caroline’s eyes set. She flicked a brow in challenge. “Not unless you want me to dip you in front of everyone during our dance.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
The disc jockey announced their names as the band struck up the music. Micah laughed as they entered the reception hall. “Aunt Caroline it is!”
