Page 22 of Secret Santas and Holiday Dances

He chuckled.

“You can help with the latter.” She winked at him.

“I’d be happy to.”

She smirked at him. “Before we do, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. I was going to bring it up earlier this evening, but we were having such a good time, I forgot.”

Liam felt a nervous churn in his gut but ignored it. “Shoot.”

She stared at him a moment as if considering, then pursed her red lips. “It’s a legal matter, you see. I hear you worked property cases in Philadelphia and hoped you might look at some paperwork for me? My ex-husband is trying to weasel his way into a property settlement of my apartment in New York, and I’m not sure what my recourse is.”

He breathed deep. A case. That was all right then. “I’d be happy to look. Why don’t you stop by my office on Monday?”

“That would be perfect. Thank you,” Charlotte said. “Let’s make a lunch of it.”

Liam sighed. Would that be another lunch without Grace? Probably. He forced a smile. “It’d be my pleasure.”

“Then it’s a date.”

Whoa, what?

She batted her lashes. “I wonder . . . How is it an attorney as well-reputed and I assume paid as you were in Philly, ended back here in Small Town, USA?”

“You’d be surprised how often I get asked that.”

“Grace tells me your family is richer than the Bradford’s,” she said.

She what? That didn’t sound like Grace at all.

Charlotte shrugged. “I wonder if you don’t miss it?”

“Miss what?” His mind was still reeling that Grace would talk about his family’s wealth.

She gestured around. “The parties, the big houses and fancy cars, the big corporate career with a corresponding paycheck?”

He frowned. “No, I can’t honestly say that I do.”

“So, then, what did it? What changed your mind?” She smiled at him.

Liam breathed out. Okay. “It was a combination of a lot of things. The clients I had, the workload, the questionable ethics of the company I worked for. When I broke up with my girlfriend, coming home seemed like the logical next step,” he said. “What I missed was my family, fishing with clients, riding horses in the Appalachians, festivals, southern cooking, friends you can call on in a moment’s notice, a small-town Christmas where you’re constantly reminded the reason for the season, and red wrapped presents with silver ribbon left anonymously for me at my work . . .”

He still hadn’t opened Grace’s present and kept it on his nightstand. The curiosity was eating at him, but he still wanted to wait.

She frowned, getting lost in thought.

The front door opened, this time without the benefit of a bell or Henry opening it, accompanied by a current of cold air. Charlotte shivered, and Liam glanced toward the entrance. Grace stepped inside wearing her favorite Sunday dress—a pale pink, wrap dress only a shade darker than her skin, that hung in fold after fold of light fabric about her knees and had a silver belt around her middle that matched her silver heels. The accessories were new add-ons he’d never seen her wear to church. The dress was nowhere near as formal as what everyone else was wearing, but suddenly, she was all he could see.

She’d come.

“Grace?” Charlotte sounded surprised.

“Excuse me, Charlotte,” Liam mumbled under his breath before making a beeline to the door.

Chapter 11

Grace stood in front of Emma’s front door, staring at the white wood paneling as music wafted through the walls and out to where she stood. She shivered against the freezing winter night air, wishing she’d brought her jacket on the short walk from her loft to Emma’s front door. She might have had she known she’d end up just standing and staring—deciding. Second-guessing, actually. She shoved a piece of chocolate in her mouth and savored it like she hadn’t just eaten three king-size chocolate bars before coming.

She’d parked her car in the barn when she’d gotten home to make sure Liam wouldn’t see it when he showed up to help Emma and George get things set up. And she’d turned off her lights so he’d think she was gone. She’d seen him coming up the driveway in his big, black pickup and had hidden behind her curtains as he’d parked, gotten out of his truck, then turned and stared at the barn, hands-on hips. He couldn’t see her, but her breath had still caught. After a moment, he’d shaken his head and gone on inside.

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