was usually a bad idea.
Okay, so he was hot. That was obvious. But Annie didn’t consider herself as shallow as all that – well, she hoped she wasn’t.
And he was smooth, she gave him that, but in a way that came across as completely ingenuous. In the short time she’d known him, Beau had proved himself to be kind, thoughtful, and apparently ridiculously competent at physical activities, from chopping down trees to disposing of creeps.
He’s just… he’s just too good to be true, Annie thought. But I really, really want to believe he is true….
Annie shook her head. That kind of thinking was dangerous.
“So, do you do this kind of thing a lot?” she blurted out, before she could give herself time to consider her words.
Beau cocked his head. “Skating, you mean?”
“No, I mean rushing into girls’ lives and sweeping them off their feet,” Annie replied. “You’re pretty good at it, after all.”
Beau’s impossibly noble forehead creased. “Not really,” he said, after hesitating a moment. “In fact, I’d say this is the first time I’ve asked someone to trust me the way I’ve asked you to trust me. I mean, obviously I’ve been on dates before. But asking someone to give me three days of their time to try to change their mind about something… that’s new.”
Annie blinked, feeling her heartbeat kick up a notch. “I – really?” she asked, hearing the tightness in her own voice. “Then… then why me?”
Beau frowned. “What do you mean? Why not you?”
Annie looked down at her hands sitting on the table, feeling suddenly short of breath.
How can I explain it to him? she thought, feeling desperate and wretched. I’m not the sort of woman men go out of their way for. And even when people have been nice to me, like Mr. Dearborn, it always feels like I’m just waiting for them to realize that I… I’m….
“I don’t know,” she finally said, her voice small. “I just… well, I grew up in an orphanage and in foster homes. I’m not saying it was all bad – some of my foster parents tried really hard to make sure I felt included. But at the end of the day, I was always just a temporary part of the family. Eventually it would always be time to pack up and say goodbye. Sometimes my foster brothers and sisters would write to me for a while, but sooner or later they’d forget about me. It’s not their fault – they were just kids. But it did hurt.”
She paused, taking a shaky breath. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at Beau.
Why am I sharing all this stuff with him? she thought. These were things she’d never told anyone. But somehow, saying them out loud felt… right. Like she was releasing a weight she didn’t even know she’d been carrying until now.
“I suppose I’ve always felt a little like a stranger,” Annie went on. “Like I was on the outside, looking in at other people’s lives and other people’s happiness. Even here, where people are nice to me… I’ve only been here a couple of years, I guess, so I’m still not really considered part of the community. It’s just the way folks are in small towns, I guess. I’m still an outsider, really.”
She took a deep breath, looking out over the lake.
“That’s why I said I don’t like Christmas – I don’t have a problem with the season. It’s just that since I left the foster care, I’ve always spent it alone. I like that other people are happy and having a great time. I just never really felt like I was part of it. So when you arrived, asking me out, asking me to let you show me what Christmas is all about…”
Annie trailed off, uncertain of what she meant to say.
But a moment later, all thoughts fled from her head anyway, when Beau’s huge hand, warm even through the material of her gloves, came down, resting on her fingers.
She looked up in surprise, swallowing, to find Beau’s beautiful brown eyes on her face. She gasped at the sight of them, her breath forming a white cloud that drifted away from her into the darkening afternoon.
“Annie,” Beau said, his voice quiet and tense. “I can’t pretend to know how you must feel. I grew up very differently from that. You know a bit of it – picking out a tree with my family, teaching my nieces and nephews to skate, and the things I’ve told you