A California Christmas (Silver Springs #7) - Brenda Novak Page 0,14
to know.
But before he could type her name in the search engine, he’d realized that it would hurt something—it would hurt her—and decided he wouldn’t abuse his mother’s trust, that he would be the man she wanted him to be, and he would be the friend Emery needed in this moment. Even if she didn’t know he’d done it, he’d be taking something intimate from her that she hadn’t offered him, and he didn’t want to do that to her or any other woman.
He chewed slowly, trying to decide how honest he should be about the close call. She’d been honest with him. But he wasn’t the one struggling with trust. So he decided not to reveal that he’d nearly broken faith with her—even before he knew it was somehow important to him to maintain it. “Because it wasn’t meant for me,” he said simply.
In the end, that was the reason he’d set his laptop aside and gone to sleep without allowing her coanchor to embarrass her any further, so it was true.
She sagged in relief, as if his words were soothing to her bruised and battered heart—probably her ego, too—and Dallas was glad he’d made the right decision. He was also ashamed of almost making the wrong one.
“I appreciate it,” she said. “I feel so violated, and...and wounded, you know? As if Ethan somehow blew away any hint of respectability and dignity I had. So it’s especially nice to be able to be with you and not feel as though you’re seeing that video playing in a loop in your mind whenever you look at me.”
Because he’d nearly succumbed, he felt unworthy of her praise and changed the subject. “Being cooped up in this house all the time, thinking about what happened, can’t be making things any easier. I’ve got to get some Christmas shopping done. I usually wait till the last minute, but this year, with how busy we’ll be with the wedding, I figured I’d drive over to Santa Barbara today and see what I could find. I have nieces and nephews who are getting older and understand that Christmas means presents.” He chuckled. “So I can’t be quite as derelict as I’ve been in the past. Any interest in going with me?”
She started to decline. She seemed horrified by the possibility of facing strangers who might’ve seen her in such a compromised position. But he convinced her that the people in Santa Barbara might not recognize her. It was chilly out; she could bundle up without looking odd or out of place. “A day out will be worth the risk. You have to start circulating again at some point,” he said. “Facing your detractors might help you put it behind you.”
“I’m not ready for that,” she insisted.
“Why wait? Why let anyone make a prisoner out of you?”
She rubbed some of the bandages under her yoga pants. “I’ve got all of these little cuts, for one.”
“Are any of them very deep? Do they hurt?”
“Not really, but I’m using whatever excuse I can,” she said wryly. “Maybe I’ll brave it after Christmas.”
“You don’t need to do any shopping?”
“I can do it online.”
“And miss all the decorations and holiday cheer? The congested traffic? The crowds? The fake tree in the center of the mall?” He nudged her elbow as he finished eating. “The Salvation Army person who rings that little bell?”
She laughed but then narrowed her eyes. “Something tells me you’re not all that excited about holiday decorations yourself.”
“I like them,” he insisted. “And going out might only get harder the longer you put it off. Why not have some fun? Forget everyone else? I’ll be with you. How bad can it get?”
She took a few more bites and swallowed before nodding as though she’d come to a decision. “Okay.”
* * *
Knots formed in Emery’s stomach as Dallas parked at La Arcada Courtyard, a quaint shopping and dining area in Santa Barbara with 1920s Spanish Colonial architecture, red awnings, several fountains and ivy crawling up the white stucco walls. She hadn’t spent much time in Santa Barbara, not since she was a kid, but it remained familiar to her and felt generally less threatening than the LA metropolis, which was filled with the television viewers she’d been so excited to cultivate once she graduated from college.
“You ready for this?” Dallas asked as he turned off the engine.
They’d been talking most of the drive, so she’d been able to push this moment to the back of her mind—the moment when