Page 64 of Mistletoe Season
His heart wasn’t broken anymore, because he fancied Charlotte Edgewood.
And it was an impossible romance.
Why would she ever fall for a very imperfect prince?
Ten
“Well, I must say you handled your second presentation like a pro.”
As Arran walked Charlotte to her truck, the wind blew the scents of popcorn from the theater behind them and pines that lined the edges of town—a warm, wintry combination, if he thought about it. Stars twinkled in the early November night, blinking high above the streetlamps as the sound of Christmas music filtered from the Ashby’s open doors.
Partial anonymity and small-town life had settled over Arran like a warm blanket, and he tucked into it a little more each day. Especially after these past few weeks with Charlotte.
It was a strange sort of thing, to feel unsettled yet energized by a woman. Over the past year, Arran had moved through relationships like a carousel ride, from one woman to another without a future in mind. But now he knew his heart had never been made for temporary.
He wanted forever.
Home.
“Thanks.” She released a sigh as if she’d been holding it in the entire evening. “I had to look at you for moral support only twice this time.”
“As happy as I was to provide assistance, I consider your rescue ofmetonight much more impressive than my menial assistance to you.”
She squeezed close to his side, her arm linked through his. “It’sa truth universally acknowledged that eighty percent of women, regardless of age, want to dance with a prince.” She tipped her gaze skyward as if in thought. “Maybe ninety percent.”
“And a few were hoping for more than a dance, from the way their hands—”
“Okay, we don’t need to relive the antics of Arlene Green.” Charlotte shook her head, her hair spun up in a beautiful array of curls. “No one needs that mental image any longer than necessary.”
“Or tactile experience.” He shuddered, encouraging another chuckle from her. “So what is next on our list of duties?”
“Look at you,” she cooed, a smile lighting her stormy eyes. “Embracing our little fundraiser with such enthusiasm.”
“Being here has been a sobering lesson, but also a welcome reminder that life isn’t made up of people who only want to use me for my status or connections.” He looked down at her, her apple scent slipping into his pulse with welcome familiarity. “And I needed the reminder of how much I enjoy service and community. Shunning the two in my hurt proved a self-inflicting wound.”
“Service is a beautiful way to spend a life.”
He studied her again. “But not a life for everyone.”
“Because it requires sacrifice. And sacrifice, by definition, is hard, or at the very least uncomfortable.” She gestured with her head back behind them. “Like learning to speak in public.”
His grin flashed wide. “But then there’s the reward of discovering you have an innate talent for it, and...” He tipped his head closer to those fascinating eyes. “The right heart.”
She looked away. “I suppose some of the scariest things in life are the most rewarding?”
“Indeed. But then, we know where to look to face those fears.” He placed his palm over her hand. “Take courage, dear heart.”
She nodded, faced forward, and continued walking toward her truck, which was not too far in the distance now. “In answer to yourquestion, before I derailed the conversation.” She sent him an adorable wink. “Our next item of business is to make home visits to our list of children and then go shopping for them.”
“Excellent.” His steps took on an added bounce. “I’ve always loved purchasing gifts. It’s as close to being Father Christmas as I’ve ever come, except once, when I played the part for a charity back home.”
Her lips pinched. “You don’t strike me as the Father Christmas sort.”
“Not jolly enough?”
Her gaze slid down him. “Yeah, that’s it.”
He couldn’t help the crook to his lips then. Maybe she didn’t mind reformed princes so much after all? He tugged her a little closer.
