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Felicity grinned. “First of all, no one was hotter than Jackie. And secondly, that’s too many qualifiers for a real compliment.”
He reached out an arm and pulled her close. “Then what if I settle for saying you look exquisite.” He kissed her lazily, not even worrying about her lipstick. “This hair thing makes me want to bite your neck.”
“It’s called a French twist.” And I’m pretty sure you know that. Sometimes he liked to play the clueless male when he was anything but...
“They called to say the babysitter is on her way up.” His gaze remained on her lips as if he wasn’t finished fooling around.
Felicity smoothed her skirt. Missy hadn’t been available, but she had vouched for a friend who was in school at NYU. “I’ll fix my lipstick and meet you at the door.”
“Don’t bother,” he muttered. “I’ll probably ruin it again.”
The heat in his gaze told her he was serious.
She cupped his cheek in one hand, feeling the smooth, warm skin. He had clearly just shaved. “You’re gorgeous in that tux, Mr. Oliver. Who would have ever believed the two of us would be going out on the town all glitzy and glamorous?”
His expression softened. “I didn’t know enough back then to fantasize about a night like this. But now I do. Can we call a truce, Fliss?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “I’m sorry I’ve been difficult.”
“You’re definitely worth the effort,” he joked.
She punched his arm. “I’ll see you in a minute.”
Half an hour later they were in the car headed to their destination. Felicity sat with her hands in her lap, unwilling to give the driver anything to gossip about, even if the man was discreet. She wrapped her fingers around a small red satin clutch that held her lipstick and a few other necessities.
Wynn touched her arm. “You okay?”
“I’m great,” she said.
This holiday season might be her best Christmas ever. Or the worst. That remained to be seen.
Suddenly, something occurred to her. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. She half turned to face him. “Where do you usually spend Christmas?” she asked. “Here? Or in Falcon’s Notch?” Why would the man build such a fabulous house and not use it? Especially with a baby daughter. The time was ripe to build new traditions.
He shrugged. “Here, as a rule.”
“And why did you build the house in Tennessee?”
“You want the truth?”
His answer surprised her. “I suppose,” she said slowly.
His self-derisive grin was illuminated by the passing lights. “I wanted to prove a point. That I made something of myself. I hoped everybody in that small, gossipy town would see my extravagant house and maybe be sorry for all the times they sneered at me and my family.”
“Oh, Wynn...” Her heart turned over in her chest.
His hands fisted on his knees. “It’s not important,” he said. “It’s just an empty house.”
She reached out and took one of his hands in hers. For once, his fingers were cold. “You have nothing to prove, Wynn. You made your point years ago. You used your brains and your drive to take you to the top. That’s something to be proud of...”
They had been speaking in low voices. Low enough that the driver couldn’t hear. Suddenly, the car pulled to the curb.
Wynn released her under the pretext of getting out. But she wondered if her words had bothered him.
The party was in full swing when they made it upstairs. Felicity was not at all shy, but the crush of people was a little disconcerting.
She clung to Wynn’s hand as they made their way through the throng.
He knew everyone, it seemed. Men shook his hand. A few even hugged him. But it was the women Felicity noticed. And the way they looked at her with envy and chagrin.
