Page 62 of Mistletoe Season
Or maybe notreformingso much asreminding?
She cleared her throat and looked toward the house. “But I don’t understand how clothes can cause such a stir at church. It’s not like half the people haven’t known me my whole life.”
He raised a teasing brow. “You were attacked by the southern mothers, were you?”
“I’m duly chastised for responding so sarcastically to your previous introduction to them.”
He studied her face in the same way he’d done at her house the other night: carefully, intensely, as if he read all her current fuzzy thoughts. “Well, I’m glad to know your wardrobe updates caught their attention enough to realize you are worth seeing.” He leaned close, his gaze soft. “Though they should have noticed all along, in my opinion. But none of us are without our own particular blindness at times, are we? And sometimes it may take a shock to get our attention to see properly.”
She slowed her pace. His subtle reference to his own behavior reignited her connection to him. Well, it was safe to say the last few weeks had certainly shocked her attention in his direction. Andshe couldn’t seem tostoppaying attention to him or seeking out his company.
But it was an interest doomed to failure.
She wasnotprincess material. She’d just started wearing heels, for heaven’s sake! Weren’t princesses born in heels? But there was somethingwaytoo attractive about a repentant man who treated a woman like a... lady.
Case in point: Instead of both trying to fit up the porch stairs, he gestured for her to take them first. She sighed. Her dad had been a good man. Kind. Strong. Gentle in his own way, but a mountain man who wasn’t prone to holding doors and caring much for frills or lace.
And the few guys she’d dated over the past years hadn’t really shown those qualities either.
Arran’s care and consideration felt... nice.
She stood up a little straighter, turning back to him as he crested the steps. “So... I finished my speech last night.”
“And you’ve brought it with you?” His smile held only encouragement.
“Well, you’d mentioned maybe going over it before I present tomorrow.”
He grinned as he reached around her for the front door. “Of course, you can practice in front of Ellie, Luke, and me.”
All heat left her face. “Arran, I... I...”
“Wouldn’t you prefer a familiar audience on whom to work out any difficulties rather than an unfamiliar one?”
She searched his face, squeezing the strap of her purse until her fingers pinched.
“You’re going to do better than you think. Todayandtomorrow.” He placed a gentle palm to her arm, his words soft. “I’m sure of it.”
“And if you’re wrong?” She forced more confidence into her voice than she felt.
He squinted upward in thought, but his lips seemed to wrestle with a smile before he looked back down at her. “You can throw more pies at me.”
Her shoulders shook with a sudden laugh. “Deal.”
***
Arran slid into a seat in the front row within the large auditorium of the school, the venue more expansive than he’d expected. Nothing too intimidating for an experienced presenter, but for her? Well, he wished he’d thought of giving her a few more tips.
The fact that she’d invited him to join her for her first big presentation encouraged his protectiveness.
As if she not only wanted him there but even garnered a little confidence from his presence. The idea somehow fortified a bit of his own confidence that he hadn’t failed beyond hope in regaining her trust.
Plus she’d worn her navy suit.
And she hadn’t wobbled one bit in those heels either.
Something about knowing her insecurities and watching her push beyond them increased his pride in her and his protective instinct all the more. If he could be one cog in the larger workings to help her see her own worth, then he’d certainly take this entire North Carolinian sabbatical as a win.
But it had already been much more. Heart-changing more.
