Tropical Holiday Tails - Zoe Chant Page 0,7

eyes at the idea of it.

Was it only finding the truth that had driven her away? Or was it his awful habit of saying exactly the wrong thing and never finding the right word? She was obviously very smart and well-educated. Probably she saw through every part of his facade from the very beginning. Her brother had been right, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, clearly preferring the company of her books to any more of his.

He really was a creeper: inadvertently rude, too pushy. Her message of disinterest was unmistakable and he had been inexcusably forward anyway.

Had her eyes, when they met, been as hungry as his, or was he just trying to project his own bone-deep need for her onto someone who wanted no part of him?

Lars shook himself. He couldn’t keep dreaming about those blue eyes. He was going to go to the dance and lose himself in glittery social swirl like his agent kept pressuring him to do.

Julie wasn’t likely to be there, he thought, with mixed feelings.

It was less complicated when she wasn’t nearby, but it somehow eased his heart when she was. He was always aware of her sitting in the dining room by herself, her books her only companions. Even if he wasn’t going to pursue her against her wishes, it was comforting to know she was nearby.

Julie had regrets.

Sometimes it felt like a lifetime of them, so heavy it bowed her head. And more than anything, she regretted letting her heart run away with her. Tom was probably right, she was probably seeing what she wanted to be there, just like she always did.

Her caribou snorted and pawed in protest, but Julie couldn’t trust her any more than she could trust herself.

She also regretted the black dress.

It was a dress for someone who wanted to show off curves, tight through the body and low-cut, with a flirty skirt that ended above the knees.

Julie didn’t want to show off her knees, let alone her curves, and here she was, like an exhibition of both.

“If you don’t go, you’ll always regret it,” Tom told her, sensing her indecision. “You have always wanted to go to a ball, and you were so excited about it when you told me about the sweepstakes.”

“I was a kid, Tom,” Julie reminded him. “A little girl who read too many fairy tales. I’m too old for that nonsense now.”

Tom was quiet a moment. “I…miss that kid.”

Julie looked at her reflection pensively. “Me, too.” Her blue eyes looked unfamiliar with the contacts she was wearing. Reading was always a challenge with them, so she rarely bothered.

“Julie…”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she reminded him.

His silence was rebuttal enough.

Julie knew better than to argue on the topic, and pulled her hair back from her face. Maybe a braid?

“You should go to the spa, have them do your hair up in some fancy do,” Tom suggested.

“Oh, I couldn’t…”

“We got a bunch of passes, and it’s not like I’m going to go get a manicure,” Tom said dryly.

Julie gave a hiccup of a laugh. “But darling, your nails!” she mocked.

Tom smiled briefly, then frowned again. “About that hockey player…” He sounded guilty.

“He wasn’t interested,” Julie said too quickly, knowing the source of his guilt. “I was probably…imagining things. You…were right.”

Her caribou stomped in protest, but she ignored it.

“But you really did like him?” Tom asked reluctantly.

“I have terrible taste in men,” Julie reminded him. “I’m glad it didn’t go further.” The heat in her body just at the thought of Lars turned her words to a flat lie.

“Hang on,” Tom said unexpectedly. He got up from the bed where he was lounging and pulled his duffel bag out from underneath it. He dug into it, and came up with a little box. “I brought your Christmas present,” he said unexpectedly. “I know it’s early, and I didn’t wrap it yet, but…I thought you might want to wear it tonight.”

Julie knew what it would be before she opened it, heart in her throat. “You…got it back?”

“The pawn shop held it for me until I could pay it off.”

Julie opened the box with trembling hands. “Mom’s pearls.” It was a necklace of shimmering black pearls, three tapered strands nestled in the red velvet box.

“You couldn’t go to the ball without it,” Tom told her, frowning to mask his emotions.

Julie threw her arms around his neck. “You’re the best brother,” she said sincerely.

She knew by the knots in his shoulders that he didn’t believe her, but