Page 44 of A Christmas Spark
He chuckled. “So she liked them?”
“She loved them,” Mabel assured him. “Almost as much as I love the fact that you did this.”
George eyed her, one thick gray eyebrow rising. “You know, you look far too pleased for someone who’s just been pranked. That’s not how this is supposed to work.”
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong,” Mabel said, stepping closer to him. The gazebo created an intimate little space just behind them, bracketing the pair and glowing softly with twinkling white lights. “Iampleased. More than pleased, actually. I’m delighted.”
“You are?” As he said it, Mabel thought that she heard a hint of vulnerability… something she’d never expected to hear from George Lowery.
She reached out and flicked a piece of sawdust from his flannel shirt. “I am,” she confirmed. “Because it means you’ve learned to have fun, George. You’ve taken me completely by surprise, and I didn’t think that was possible anymore.”
His eyes twinkled warmly, and he stepped down fully from the stepladder, right in front of her as he reached down to take her hands in his. “I’m glad I could manage to do that.”
The sound of spitting gravel from a customer arriving could be heard behind them, but neither of them moved. Mabel felt, for the first time in years, as if it were a little hard to breathe, this close to George, with him looking at her like that.
“Mabel,” George said finally, his voice lower and more serious than she’d ever heard it. “I’d like to try take you by surprise a second time.”
She swallowed hard, realizing that she felt nervous. Another feeling that she hadn’t had in years. “I’m listening.”
“Would you be my date for the town Christmas party?”
The question hung in the air between them, simple and direct and absolutely perfect. Mabel felt a smile spread across her face, bright as Christmas lights.
“George Lowery,” she said softly, “I thought you’d never ask.”
He frowned at her. “Is that a yes?”
He’d never been good with words, so she decided to take a page from his book, and try a different sort of answer. Mabel rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him, one hand wrapping around the back of his neck before she dropped back down and smirked at him. “Yes, you idiot. In case you were still wondering.”
George chuckled. “Good,” was his only answer, before he pulled her in for another kiss, there under the twinkling Christmas lights.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Late in the afternoon on Saturday, George stood in front of his bedroom mirror, adjusting the new red and green flannel button-down that he’d bought, paired with actual crisp chinos and his nicest pair of boots. He hadn’t dressed up this much since… well, he was pretty sure he couldn’t remember it. But Mabel was worth stiff new clothes and feeling out of his comfort zone.
She, he’d come to realize, was his comfort zone. She made him feel happier. More relaxed. And these clothes would feel just fine after he’d worn them for a couple of hours.
He hadn’t taken a woman out on a date in a long time. He’d had the occasional dinner with women from town over the years—casual things, more friendship than romance. Coffee with Sarah Brewer after her husband passed, thinking they might find some comfort in shared loneliness. A few awkward dinners with women his well-meaning friends had tried to set him up with. But everything had fizzled out quickly. He’d liked being alone.
Except for Mabel. He liked being around her more than he liked being alone.
He stepped back from the mirror and took a long, appraising look at himself. He had to admit that he cleaned up better than he’d expected. His dark hair, usually tousled from working outdoors, was combed back neatly. He’d even trimmed his beard that morning, wanting to look his best for Mabel.
He picked up the holly brooch that he’d bought for her to wear, a bit like a corsage, wondering if the gift was too presumptuous. But he wanted to do something thoughtful. Mabel noticed things like that, and he wanted her to know he’d been thinking of her. He’d considered a real flower corsage, before realizing that he wanted to give her something that would last. Something that would make her think about him over and over again.
He glanced at his watch—just after four in the afternoon. He’d told Mabel he’d pick her up at quarter to five, which gave him just enough time to drive across town to her house. He’d even washed and vacuumed out his truck, making sure it was free of pine needles. He wanted the night to be perfect.
The drive to Mabel’s house felt far too short. George found himself taking the long way, partly to kill time and partly because he needed a few extra minutes to calm his nerves. When had he become this nervous around Mabel? Three weeks ago, their relationship had been nothing but friendly banter and the occasional prank. Now, suddenly, the thought of spending an entire evening with her as his official date was making him feel like a teenager again.
He pulled up in front of her little cottage, glittering with Christmas decor, and cleared his throat. He was an old man. He could handle this.
When he knocked on the door, Mabel opened it, and he felt his heart flip over in his chest.
She was wearing a tartan wool skirt over black tights, with a soft-looking red sweater and tall black boots, her silver bobcurled and pearl studs in her ears. She smiled at him brightly, and smoothed her hands over her skirt, looking as nervous as he felt. Oddly, that calmed him a little.
“Vanessa helped me pick this out,” she confessed, and George grinned. He was smiling a lot more lately, he realized. Always because of her.
“You look beautiful,” he promised. “And I brought you something.” He cleared his throat, plucking out the black box with the holly brooch inside, and Mabel took it from him, her eyes widening with surprise.
