man, so it’s possible he’d have had the stroke anyway, but I still blamed Lorne for everything. I defended him in court, but only because somebody had to. And I never forgave him.”
As Trey shook his head, the pain in his eyes told me that he was almost as disappointed with himself as he’d been with his brother. “I’ve always said that I thought everybody deserves a second chance. After you kicked us out, I realized I meant everybody but Lorne. I was so ready to believe the worst about him. And I was furious with him but . . .” He paused and ducked his head.
“Well, the truth is, a part of me was almost happy when I thought Lorne was at it again,” he said. “I felt justified about being so mad and never giving him that second chance. My own brother . . .”
Trey was talking more to himself than to me at that point, but I wanted to tell him I understood how it feels when people you love let you down, how hard it can be to forgive, and how much I admired him for doing it and for facing his own faults too. Before I could say anything, Trey came to himself again, looking a little embarrassed.
“Anyway, I’m sorry.”
I smiled. “Apology accepted.”
Trey reached into an inside pocket of his jacket, pulled out a flat rectangular-shaped packet. “This is for you,” he said. “Peace offering.”
When he prodded me to go ahead and open it, I ripped the paper off the package, smiling at what I found inside. It was a collector’s edition of The Santa Clause, the original as well as the two sequels, on Blu-ray.
“I hope you don’t already have them,” he said.
I did but not all on one disc and not with bonus footage.
“Thanks. I’d have forgiven you anyway, but this is great. Really great.”
I paused and took a breath, remembered sitting up in my yarn cave the night before, thinking about Trey and that single stitch and how just about every good, big thing starts with one good, small thing.
“Do you want to come over and watch them with me? Maybe this weekend?”
Trey shook his head. The hopeful knot that had formed in my middle fell to the bottom of my stomach with a disappointed thump.
“Lorne and I have plans this weekend. Dad always loved fishing before his stroke. We’re going in together to book a charter boat, take Dad out, and see if we can hook a few mackerel, maybe some tarpon if we’re lucky.”
“Oh, I’m glad,” I said sincerely.
“But I was thinking about something else we might do next weekend, I mean, if you don’t have plans.” Trey reached into yet another pocket and pulled out two tickets. “It’s a reunion concert,” he explained. “Lorne said you love Rascal Flatts.”
Very funny, Lorne.
Given some time, I suspected I could learn to love Rascal Flatts. Now that he’d started to trust me, I suspected it might take even less time to learn to love Trey Holcomb. I was halfway there already and that was even before he pressed his lips together, like he was trying to decide how much more he should say, then made up his mind to take the chance.
“The thing is,” Trey said, “I kind of gave up on dating a few years back. What with the bankruptcy, and my dad getting sick, all the stuff with Lorne, and trying to keep my practice going, there hasn’t been much time for anything else. Besides, I went out with a lot of nice women before but none who made me think about wanting to do more than date. So really,” he said with a shrug, “what was the point?”
“But you . . . ,” he said softly, his voice turning husky as his brandy-brown eyes locked onto mine. “Celia, I’ve never met anyone quite like you. But . . . the more I know about you, the more I want to know, and the more I want you to know me too. I guess what I’m trying to say is, for the first time in a long time, you made me think about wanting more.”
The way he was looking at me, the words he was saying, took my breath away for a moment. Before I could catch it again, Trey shifted into another gear, his words tumbling out as he clarified his position. “It’s sudden, I know. And I get that this is a lot to put out there all