“What do you mean, what happened? What do you think happened?”
“I almost didn’t recognize you. Talk about a surreal experience. I thought it was you, and you turn around and it looked like someone else.” Her eyes were running up and down his body, as if she were searching for proof of his identity.
“Of course it’s me,” he grumbled, vaguely annoyed at himself for being so disappointed. What had he thought would happen? That she’d be so overwhelmed with admiration she’d fall into his arms? “Who the hell else would it be?”
“That’s the point. I thought it was you, but then you didn’t look like yourself.”
He rubbed his shorter beard distractedly. “It was getting too long. I figured it was time for a once-a-year trim up.”
“Do you really do it once a year on Christmas?” She appeared to believe his spontaneous explanation. Her expression was amused and interested. “I don’t remember it from other years.”
“That’s because you weren’t paying attention.”
It was a straight-out lie, but it worked. She let the subject drop and said instead, “But seriously, you don’t have to do all this on Christmas day. It could wait.”
“I didn’t have anything else to do. I wanted to.”
Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she glanced down, her thick, dark eyelashes spreading out against her smooth skin.
She was so beautiful. Touchable. He gripped the drill he was holding with both hands so he wouldn’t try to touch her.
Fitz suddenly realized she was dressed up. She had on a new red top that slid off one of her shoulders and wore black leggings and simple jewelry. She also had makeup on.
“You look really nice,” he heard himself saying.
Her cheeks got pinker as she darted a quick look up. “Thanks.”
“I thought you would have changed clothes since your guests are gone.”
“Oh. Yeah. I, uh, I’m going out.”
Maybe the words could have meant anything, but the way she said them made their significance very clear. Fitz’s body tensed up. He sucked in a breath. “Going out?”
“With Charles. He called. A while ago.”
“He asked you out on Christmas?” He really shouldn’t sound so rough and outraged. He had absolutely no right. But he was suddenly pulsing with resentment. Jealousy.
“Not really out, out. Just for a drive to go look at the Christmas lights in Chelsea. It’s not really a date or anything.” Chelsea was a nearby town where they went all out on the lights and decorations.
It sounded like a date to Fitz. It sounded like she was going out with another man—right when he...
When he’d done absolutely nothing.
Of course, she was allowed to go out with whomever she wanted. Nothing had happened between them. And even if it had, she had no ties or commitments to him.
But he still wanted to strangle something. Hard.
Despite his instinctive response, he needed to act mature and reasonable and support whatever she wanted. So that’s what he would do. Be supportive. And mature. And reasonable.
“Sounds like a pretty cheap date,” he muttered.
Her shoulders stiffened. She glared at him in a very familiar way. “I just told you it wasn’t a date. He’s new in town, and he’d heard about the lights.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You can keep your snide comments to yourself. I think it sounds fun, and no one asked you anyway.”
“I’m well aware of that fact.” He narrowed his eyes as he returned her glare.
“Oh. You’re the most annoying man in the history of the world. Did you know that?” She snapped out the words and then thrust the wrapped gift at him. “So here.”
He looked down at the box. “What’s that?”
“It’s a present, you big jerk. It’s for you, so take it and shut the hell up.”
He reached out to take the box, and she whirled around and stomped into the house. He held the gift for a long time, staring down at it.
Not in a million years would he have expected her to get him a Christmas present. Even if it had been offered in an angry huff, it was still such a sweet gesture that his hands were actually shaking.
He didn’t dare open it. Not here. Not now.
He returned to his work on the gate and was still working on it when Charles came by to pick her up in his fancy car.
Fitz tried not to notice. Tried not to care. Managed not to look as the two of them walked from the house and drove away.
He finished the gate in less than two hours. It was dark out now. The house was quiet and empty. He had no reason to hang around. She might be gone a long time. She might be gone all night.
He couldn’t wait around for her. That would be wrong. It would be a creepy stalker move to hang around just to see when she got home and whether she invited Charles inside.
Plus it would hurt like hell to see it.
So he gathered up his tools and the remainder of the supplies. Then he put the small wrapped gift he’d brought for her on the mat at her front door.
Then, step by step, he forced his feet to walk back to his car and then drive home.
Six
BACK AT HIS PLACE, Fitz kicked off his shoes and flopped onto his small bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to imagine what Belinda was doing with Charles right now.
A drive to see some Christmas lights in a neighboring town wasn’t a particularly romantic outing. It could, in fact, be described as friendly. Charles was new in town. He was acquainted with Belinda, and she happened to be single and available. It didn’t mean he was into her. He might not make a move.
Fitz could take little comfort in that line of thought. Mostly because he couldn’t imagine a straight man existed who wouldn’t be into Belinda, who wouldn’t think she was the best and most beautiful woman to ever walk the earth.
He couldn’t believe he’d entertained even the slimmest hope that she might be just a little attracted to him. He lacked anything women might be looking for. Stability. Motivation. Ambition. Commitment. Basic grooming. What the hell had he thought was going to happen?
God, he was pathetic. This was his life. The one he’d made for himself. That meant he had to live with the consequences of it, and one of them was that he’d never get a woman like Belinda to give him more than a few kind words every now and then.
It was probably better that way.
Speaking of giving, she’d given him a Christmas gift. He’d stuck it on the floor of the back seat of the car and forgotten about it. He jumped up, put his shoes back on, and ran out to get it.
When he returned, breathless from more than his race down and up the stairs, he pulled off the pretty green wrapping paper and then opened the box.
He stared for a minute, processing what was inside. Then he started to laugh in breathy huffs as he pulled out the grooming set in its brown leather pouch. Most of the items were chrome plated—razor, comb, scissors, nail clippers. There was also an electric trimmer with two different beard attachments.
It must have been expensive. The leather and craftsmanship were fine quality. Definitely not something she could have just picked up from Target. But her tongue must have been firmly in cheek when she’d bought this grooming set for him.