Read Online His Holiday Heart by Jillian Hart - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jillian Hart
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he’d overheard—and they both knew it.
He strained to hear down the hallway and the calamity in the other room was continuing—the happy sounds of the women as they laughed and worked together. He had a few moments before they interrupted. He took a step closer to Lucy. “Who was the guy who didn’t work out for you?”
“Someone I was going to marry.” She said the words quietly.
He had to strain to hear her. He couldn’t tell if it was sadness or something like regret that hung in the air between them. He wasn’t surprised she had been engaged, only that she never married. She was beautiful and enchanting and sweet as sunrise.
Too bad he didn’t believe in the fairy tale of marriage. Just because it worked out now and then for the best didn’t mean that it did most of the time. Plus, he had learned the hard way that what looked happy on the outside could, in fact be miserable on the inside. His dad’s first marriage had been that way, and Spence had gotten an eyeful—enough that he could taste bitterness on his tongue after all these years.
Someone—it sounded like Ava—whispered, “Shh! We’d better stay in here. Spence is in the kitchen with Lucy. Alone. This may be our only chance to marry him off.”
Had Lucy heard that? Maybe not, with the running water, but he had. His chest caved in. Pain exploded. Darkness beat at him. Marry him off? That’s what they all wanted for him: misery and heartache? They wanted him to have the same life his father had had? He put his hand to his face, hating that it shook just a bit. He steadied it. “Why didn’t you get married?”
“It’s complicated.” She started moving again, grabbing one plate after another and running it beneath the faucet. She had tensed up, though, as if he had hit a sore spot.
His head was ready to explode. He couldn’t take it anymore. His family was in there meddling and waiting for him to fall for Lucy—as if he were desperate. The pain was building like the inside of a volcano, hot dangerous lava bubbling upward with enough power to blow off a mountaintop. That’s how much pain he was under. That’s what the thought of commitment did to him. He choked, wrestling down the past.
He watched her, debating what to do, as she rinsed another plate under the faucet. He was not going to think about how lovely she was. He was not going to remember how kind she was to his family. He was not going to let his crush soften him. A smart man would do anything to end this right here and now. Maybe then the pain building within him would stop. He prayed to heaven it would.
Forgive me for this, Lord, for what I am about to do. He couldn’t see any way around it. A quick clean break would be the best for everyone. The pain blinded him. He wanted it to stop, that was all. He never again wanted to hear the words that had changed his world: Love is pretending, don’t you know that, stupid boy? You say you love someone and they give you what you want. Love doesn’t exist.
He hated that, after all these years, he believed her. That was the only time his mother had ever been honest. Love didn’t exist, and whatever he felt for Lucy had to stop here and now. He took a deep breath, dug deep past the need to be kind to her—she was obviously hurting—and went for the jugular.
“The man you didn’t marry, what was wrong with him?” He bit out. “Didn’t he have enough money to satisfy you?”
She gasped. The plate slipped from her hand and shattered in the sink. The reaction was not exactly what he had expected. She was supposed to get mad at him and say it was none of his business—which would mean yes. Or she could lob a few uncomplimentary adjectives at him and shout that she never wanted to talk to him again. Mission accomplished.
Instead, she stared down at the sink horrified. Her entire being vibrated with pain, but she didn’t speak of it. She gave a single sob. “Oh, look what I’ve done. Katherine’s beautiful china.
He strained to hear down the hallway and the calamity in the other room was continuing—the happy sounds of the women as they laughed and worked together. He had a few moments before they interrupted. He took a step closer to Lucy. “Who was the guy who didn’t work out for you?”
“Someone I was going to marry.” She said the words quietly.
He had to strain to hear her. He couldn’t tell if it was sadness or something like regret that hung in the air between them. He wasn’t surprised she had been engaged, only that she never married. She was beautiful and enchanting and sweet as sunrise.
Too bad he didn’t believe in the fairy tale of marriage. Just because it worked out now and then for the best didn’t mean that it did most of the time. Plus, he had learned the hard way that what looked happy on the outside could, in fact be miserable on the inside. His dad’s first marriage had been that way, and Spence had gotten an eyeful—enough that he could taste bitterness on his tongue after all these years.
Someone—it sounded like Ava—whispered, “Shh! We’d better stay in here. Spence is in the kitchen with Lucy. Alone. This may be our only chance to marry him off.”
Had Lucy heard that? Maybe not, with the running water, but he had. His chest caved in. Pain exploded. Darkness beat at him. Marry him off? That’s what they all wanted for him: misery and heartache? They wanted him to have the same life his father had had? He put his hand to his face, hating that it shook just a bit. He steadied it. “Why didn’t you get married?”
“It’s complicated.” She started moving again, grabbing one plate after another and running it beneath the faucet. She had tensed up, though, as if he had hit a sore spot.
His head was ready to explode. He couldn’t take it anymore. His family was in there meddling and waiting for him to fall for Lucy—as if he were desperate. The pain was building like the inside of a volcano, hot dangerous lava bubbling upward with enough power to blow off a mountaintop. That’s how much pain he was under. That’s what the thought of commitment did to him. He choked, wrestling down the past.
He watched her, debating what to do, as she rinsed another plate under the faucet. He was not going to think about how lovely she was. He was not going to remember how kind she was to his family. He was not going to let his crush soften him. A smart man would do anything to end this right here and now. Maybe then the pain building within him would stop. He prayed to heaven it would.
Forgive me for this, Lord, for what I am about to do. He couldn’t see any way around it. A quick clean break would be the best for everyone. The pain blinded him. He wanted it to stop, that was all. He never again wanted to hear the words that had changed his world: Love is pretending, don’t you know that, stupid boy? You say you love someone and they give you what you want. Love doesn’t exist.
He hated that, after all these years, he believed her. That was the only time his mother had ever been honest. Love didn’t exist, and whatever he felt for Lucy had to stop here and now. He took a deep breath, dug deep past the need to be kind to her—she was obviously hurting—and went for the jugular.
“The man you didn’t marry, what was wrong with him?” He bit out. “Didn’t he have enough money to satisfy you?”
She gasped. The plate slipped from her hand and shattered in the sink. The reaction was not exactly what he had expected. She was supposed to get mad at him and say it was none of his business—which would mean yes. Or she could lob a few uncomplimentary adjectives at him and shout that she never wanted to talk to him again. Mission accomplished.
Instead, she stared down at the sink horrified. Her entire being vibrated with pain, but she didn’t speak of it. She gave a single sob. “Oh, look what I’ve done. Katherine’s beautiful china.
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