Risking It All for Love (A Christmas in Snow Valley Romance) Page 9

  Paisley checked her phone. Five minutes. If her parents were going to make it, they’d be there by now. She scanned the crowd to see if she could spot her mom’s bright blue parka – the one she’d had since Paisley was thirteen and was totally embarrassed that her mother would walk around in public in something so old-lady-ish. She did one last sweep and a movement caught her eye.

  One barrel over a guy – a cute guy – in jeans and a designer coat, waved at her. Paisley’s heart stuttered and she ducked her head, tucking her dark mahogany hair behind one ear. The man’s blatant flirtation startled her. She took two quick breaths and dismissed the idea that he waved at her. She wore a thick coat and stocking hat. No way was she on her game tonight. He must have been trying to get someone else’s attention.

  She checked over her shoulder to see if anyone waved back, but the Petersons huddled close and stared at the small stage. Someone tapped the microphone and Paisley turned her attention to the front, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at being singled out.

  As Mayor Carl began a well-rehearsed speech on inviting the Spirit of Christmas to Snow Valley, Paisley let her eyes drift back to the stranger. He had to be just over six feet tall with wide shoulders. Dark hair peeked out from under his stocking hat and, heaven help her, curled up in the back. A hint of dark growth on his jaw gave him rugged appeal and Paisley wished she could see what color his eyes were. Please let them be brown.

  As if he heard her silent plea, he turned to answer by raising one eyebrow and producing a lazy grin with “come hither” written all over it. The firelight illuminated his face with a golden glow.

  Paisley jerked her attention back to the stage and sipped her cocoa to calm the butterflies in her stomach. They’re brown. Deep, dark, gorgeous brown.

  Dang.

  Dying to steal another look, Paisley forced herself to face forward, refusing to flirt with him. She didn’t know who he was, but she knew one thing, strangers never stayed in Snow Valley longer than it took to experience Christmas in the town that does Christmas best. After snowmobiling, a romantic ride on the Polar Express, and a few kisses in front of a roaring fire, they’d leave, taking your heart with them.

  Just as her resolve slipped away, the square lit up with Christmas joy and Paisley jerked at the cannon blast. Sawyer laughed at her, making some comment about jumping like a newbie. She smacked him in the arm, thankful to have something to focus on besides the man with the gorgeous eyes ... and smile ... and oh-my-gosh those curls. Paisley stomped her boots again, this time trying to jolt his brown eyes from her memory.

  As the crowd dispersed, Amber gathered their cups and took Peake to the nearest barrel to watch them burn. Someone called Sawyer’s name and both he and Paisley turned toward the voice. To Paisley’s horror, her handsome stranger headed right for them. She squatted down to check Journey’s blanket and hide the way her cheeks burned.

  “No way!” Sawyer grabbed the guy in a bear hug and pounded his back. “What are you doing here, man?”

  Obviously Sawyer knew this guy, which made Paisley even more embarrassed she’d thought he was flirting when he was just being neighborly. For the life of her, she could not put a name with the face. In a town this size, grouping people together as families was easy; but, this guy didn’t look like anyone she knew. Not that being a stranger was a bad thing, oh no, on him, individuality looked good. He probably thought she was a jerk for snubbing him. Well, she’d have to make up for her inhospitable behavior. Standing up, she put on her friendliest smile.

  “You remember my baby sister?” Sawyer said pointing at her.

  Thanks for the clue. She wracked her brain, sorting through her brother’s old friends, trying to put a name with the hot dish giving her his undivided attention. An old friend could be good – really good. Maybe he’d moved back to town after finishing school and would stay longer than Christmas. This had possibilities written all over it. Their eyes met once again and Paisley’s insides melted.

  “How could I forget our biggest fan?” He nudged her shoulder.

  Great, she was back to being “baby sister” material. Thanks a lot, Sawyer. She shot her brother a dirty look. So much for possibilities.

  “Clay?!” Amber shrieked and flung herself into the man’s arms.

  Clay. Clay? Paisley took a step back. “No way,” she said. Looking both ways to make sure no one had heard her. Paisley coughed into her mitten. She glared at Amber, wishing she didn’t feel so jealous of that hug.

  “You look positively transformed. What happened to the spikes and black lipstick?” asked Amber.

  Paisley wondered the same thing. The last time she’d seen Clay Jett he was a skinny seventeen-year-old with black spikes in his hair and a dog collar. The only member of her brother’s high school band to try and make a living with music, Clay headed west the day after graduation and hadn’t been seen since.

  The band didn’t hold his success against him. Although, there were times when Paisley wondered if Sawyer and Amber envied Clay’s gumption. Of course, they sang whenever they got the chance, the national anthem at the 4th of July picnic, Pastor John’s Easter sermon, and no funeral was complete without Amber’s rendition of Amazing Grace. But, once they had kids, their family came first. They made parenting look like so much fun, Paisley couldn’t wait to have kids of her own. Not that she was in a hurry. All things in God’s time, as Pastor John would say.

  Paisley had seen Clay’s dad in town, but never thought to ask about his son. She ran her eyes up and down Clay, taking in the changes that were aaaaaall good. Even in snow clothes he looked amazing. Who knew there was so much yum under the back eyeliner and hair dye?

  Sawyer cleared his throat and warned Paisley with a look. She turned away and tried to act as though she hadn’t seen him. Sawyer had “advised” her not to date the guys in the band and Clay in particular.

  The warning came during her freshman year of high school. She and Sawyer were in the basement, a fresh plate of sugar cookies on the amp and Sawyer tapping his drum sticks against his thigh. Their dad gave permission for Sawyer to use the unfinished basement for band practice as long as he watched Paisley after school. The year she turned fourteen, a whole new set of rules came into play.

  “They aren’t bad guys, but they’re a lot older than you.”

  “They aren’t that much older. Sheesh. I’ve been hanging around them for four years. I know them just as well as I know you.”

  Well, most of them. Nobody knew Clay. He didn’t even hang out with the band at school. He just drifted through the halls in his shredded t-shirts and ripped jeans.

  Clay’s choice in clothing never bothered Paisley, it was his empty eyes she stayed up late at night thinking about. The dullness went away when Clay played his guitar and she loved to see his eyes brighten – like watching the sun rise over fresh snow – the energy took her breath away.

  “We’re seniors and you’re a freshman. There’s a big difference.”

  Paisley walked around the room, going through her pre-practice checklist and ignoring Sawyer. She knew where the guys liked to stand and how tall Amber liked the mic. No matter what she did, the height always needed adjusting.

  “Okay?” Sawyer pushed.

  Paisley tightened the mic stand hoping to get it to stay in place this time. “You don’t have anything to worry about; it’s not like any of them would ask me out anyway.”

  “Who wouldn’t ask you out?” asked Bill as he clomped down the stairs. Jeb, Amber, and Clay, followed right behind. Bill had to duck as his feet touched the floor to miss a low-hanging joist. Paisley smiled. When they started the Iron Stix, the guys used to reach up and brush their fingers against the beam for luck. Amber gave Sawyer a kiss hello before snagging a cookie.

  Paisley plugged in Bill’s keyboard, and said, “Sawyer’s worried I’m going to go all Yoko on you guys.”

  Bill winked at her. “I’d ask you out to get your cookies, but since you give them away for free ...”


  Paisley’s face flushed at his obvious reference to the old saying: Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free. She concentrated on the soundboard while Bill plunked notes to help Amber warm up her voice.

  Jeb leaned into his mic. “Test. Test.” His voice echoed off the cement walls.

  They talked about throwing up padding to absorb some sound, but Paisley suspected they liked the added volume. Playing in the basement was like singing in the shower.

  Jeb pulled away and gave her a thumbs up. “I’d take you out, but Lizzie’s the jealous type.”

  Paisley rolled her eyes. His comment was the equivalent of waiting for pigs to fly. “Yeah, like she’d give you the time of day.”

  Jeb shoved a cookie in his mouth and chased it down with a swig of soda. “She’s just playing hard to get.”

  “You wish.”

  Jeb turned to Sawyer, clearly offended. “She’s like our little sister.”

  Sawyer tapped the cymbal three times. “Can we just play?”

  Paisley waited at the soundboard as Clay plugged in his bass. He hit a few cords and made an adjustment on his amp. A loud squeal echoed off the walls and everyone covered their ears. Paisley ran over and twisted a knob on the black box. The squeal was replaced by grumbling, but no one threw a dirty look at Clay. No one dared. Sawyer tapped on his snare and then twirled his sticks.

  Paisley gave Clay a small smile and lifted her shoulders. He leaned in and she could smell the deep scent of men’s body wash; a scent she’d recently found a new interested in. “You’re more than just cookies,” Clay said quietly, brushing his fingers up her arm.

  The connection happened so fast Paisley wasn’t sure it happened at all, except that her skin tingled where he’d touched her. She made her way back to the soundboard, wondering if Clay had adjusted his amp so she’d have to come over and fix it. She watched Clay out of the corner of her eye for most of practice. He didn’t act like he’d said a word and she decided the zing was their little secret.

  A secret she’d kept to this day.

  Paisley absently rubbed her hand up her arm, wondering if he’d thought of her at all since he left town. Sawyer may have had the authority to warn her off the band when she was fourteen, but she wasn’t fourteen anymore. If Clay was coming home, she would gladly chair the welcoming committee.

  The crowd thinned out as Clay listened to Amber and Sawyer’s engagement and wedding story, asked about Sawyer’s job as an electrician, and met their kids. Clay’s eyes wandered to Paisley now and again, but Amber and Sawyer’s excitement over seeing their long-lost band-mate was hard to ignore for long.

  Peake threw a snowball at his dad. Sawyer gave him a stern look followed by a promise to play later. The kid shrugged and continued packing snow anyway. Paisley admired his perseverance.

  “We sent you an invite to the wedding,” said Amber, her lower lip pouting out.

  Clay shuffled his feet. “Yeah, I wasn’t making much back then.” He held up both hands as if weighing his options. “Food or bus ticket? But, I wished you guys the best. Although, I’m not sure what you did, Amber, to deserve a drummer for a husband,” he said as he shoved Sawyer. “I guess it’s just bad luck.”

  They joked back and forth, but Paisley’s mind was on Clay’s excuse and she wondered what other tough decisions he’d had to make in order to become a success in the music business. Her heart went out to him – alone in a strange city with hardly any money. She would have ached for Snow Valley, especially after getting an invitation to two of her best friends’ wedding.

  Sawyer wasn’t sidetracked by the teasing any more than Paisley was. “Was it really that bad?”

  “Sometimes.” Clay glanced at Paisley and then back to Sawyer. “But things got better. I’m working in production now. I hope to open my own studio soon.”

  “That’s fantastic.” Sawyer smacked him on the back. “We need to get the band together. Bill lives in Boulder, but Jeb took over his dad’s place last year. I’m sure we could set something up. How long are you in town?”

  Paisley caught herself leaning closer, hoping he’d say those magic words, “I’m home.”

  “I’ve got a break between projects; I should be here at least through Christmas.” Clay looked her way again and this time Paisley turned her back.

  Just like she’d thought. They come, they Christmas, they leave. Clay was no different than the rest of the holiday tourists in this town and she had no intention of giving him any more time or thought while he was here.

  “Come on Peake, let’s go build a snowman,” she said, offering her hand.

  She and Peake spent the next fifteen minutes using the snow piled on the sides of the walkway to build the base.

  Amber interrupted their work and informed Peake it was way past his bedtime.

  He looked at Paisley and they both groaned in protest as they made their way to the parking lot.

  Paisley found herself scanning the area for Clay. When she didn’t find him, her heart drooped like a pathetic Christmas bow.

  “Looking for someone?” asked Amber as she struggled to get the stroller through the snow.

  “No.” Paisley knew she answered too fast. She also knew Amber would pick up on her defensiveness, so she added, “I just thought he’d say goodbye. You know, for old times’ sake.”

  “His dad called and needed help getting the cows in. They busted through a fence when they heard the cannon.”

  “Oh. Well, I guess that’s that.” Paisley reached down and grabbed the front of the stroller to help lift it over the curb.

  Amber pressed her lips together as she dug in, her high-heel boots, though totally stylin’, weren’t made for wrestling a stroller through the Montana snowpack. “Sawyer’s trying to set up a reunion of sorts. Wouldn’t that be a kick?”

  “Yep.” Presley concentrated on traffic. She purposely didn’t ask questions and Amber was too busy gripping the stroller so she didn’t slip to press the topic.

  Between the two of them, they managed to wrangle their way to Amber and Sawyer’s SUV. Sawyer arrived a few minutes later as they strapped Journey into the car seat. Peake slept on his shoulder.

  Once the kids were buckled in, Paisley dashed down the street to her car. It was too darn cold to stand around chatting without a fire barrel nearby.

  Clay’s disappearance didn’t stop Paisley from thinking about his easy smile and sultry eyes. She could dismiss his first wave as his attempt to say hi to an old friend. The second smile, the one that practically melted the snow, was harder to write off. Instead of being embarrassed when their eyes met, he looked, well ... interested ... and flirty ... and like someone Paisley would have wanted to spend time with.

  She scraped a film of ice off the windshield before getting in the car. Her disappointment that Clay hadn’t asked for her number surfaced as she put the key in the ignition. It’s for the best. She shrugged and turned the key. The heart can only be broken so many times.