“There’s an art to attending a party with a date,” she was saying to him.
“I’m all ears.”
“If it seems that Molly isn’t comfortable with you leaving her side, then by all means, stay next to her as you mingle. But if she becomes engrossed, for example, in a conversation with one of her friends, it’s perfectly cool to give her space. There’s sizzle in meeting the eyes of someone you’re attracted to from across the room.” She pointed to the food and drinks. “Say you go get a holiday drink. While you’re there, you could lift a cup and ask her wordlessly if she wants one. Or you could be talking to guys fifteen feet away and give her a secret smile.”
“To be honest, I don’t know what a secret smile is.”
“It’s the kind of smile you give someone when you share a secret. In this case, the secret you share is that you like one another and that the night holds fabulous potential.”
“Not sure I can convey all that with a smile.”
“Like so.” She glanced up at him out of the corners of her eyes, lips tilting. Their gazes locked for only a split second before she looked away, but the contact packed power.
Need stole his breath.
“I know several people here,” she continued, “so how about you go hang out with your friends and we’ll practice? If at any moment Molly—in this case me—looks like she’s been stranded, excuse yourself and return to her. But if it looks like she’s having a fabulous time, then don’t feel obligated to do so. On the other hand, don’t stay away from her so long that she thinks, Why did he invite me here? He’s not spending any time with me.”
His head spun. “I see what you mean about this being an art form. Just . . . not the form of art I’ve mastered.”
“Which is why we’re taking this on a test run.” She moved off, easily finding people to chat with. Around town, she was well-known and well-liked. Much more so than he was.
Connor crossed to Andrew. At first it felt awkward, trying to do all the things she’d mentioned. But he soon realized it wasn’t hard at all. He was crazy about Shay. Whenever he’d been in a room with her for the past sixteen years, his attention had strayed to her. So he’d just let it do what it wanted to do.
Sometimes when he looked her way, she didn’t meet his eyes. Which was fine because at all times he could tell she was doing great. She wasn’t stranded. When their gazes did intersect, he felt the warm jolt of it like a physical touch.
In time, he returned to her, and she excused herself from her conversation to pull him to the side of the room.
“How did I do?” he asked.
“Connor, you did so, so well. Really! A+! Was that less painful than ice skating?”
“Infinitely so.”
• • •
The following day at work, Shay caught herself staring into space, reliving the ugly sweater party.
Shay. You’re supposed to be fulfilling website orders. Adroitly, she taped closed a padded envelope, flipped it over, and then . . . went still as her thoughts tugged her back to the party.
It had been a revelation! Restrained Connor had been a master of across-the-room attraction. Shared glances. Shared smiles. His focus returning to her again and again. Who’d have guessed?
Quiet intensity lived in him. It was easy to miss, at first. But once you saw it, it was impossible to ignore. He was a composed man and his composure called to her. But beneath that composure lay passion and deep emotion. She was sure of it. And that called to her even more loudly.
She’d felt a delicious crackle when he’d looked at her from across Andrew’s living room.
Her phone dinged, interrupting her reverie.
I’ve completed another painting, Connor texted. I’d love for you to come over and name it when you have time.
Her fingers flew as she typed her reply. I respond to artwork naming needs almost as quickly as Batman responds to the bat signal. I’ll swing by tomorrow after work.
• • •
“Shay!” Penny Bryant said as she swung open the door to their bungalow. “Will you look at that snow!”
“I know.” Snowflakes drifted soundlessly toward the thin blanket of snow accumulating on the ground. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Come in. I sent Connor to the grocery store for more sugar, but he’ll be back any minute.”
Warmth and the scent of chocolate surrounded her as she stepped inside.
“How is my nativity angel doing?” Penny asked.
“Cherubic? Serene?”
“Excellent, excellent.” Penny waved for Shay to follow her toward the kitchen.
Over the past week, Shay had been added to an email loop concerning the nativity and had completed a fitting with the costume mistress. Apparently, that was all the preparation needed because she only had to show up at the right place and time, then stand there, looking angelic.
The Vine Church choir had sung at the Christmas tree lighting, so, in order to prevent a turf war, the Baptists would sing Christmas hymns at the nativity. Volunteers would handle the animals, the set, the lighting, the printing of the pamphlets about the Christmas story, and the table serving free cider and cookies.
“I’m making homemade hot chocolate,” Penny announced, taking up a position in front of the stove and stirring the contents of a saucepan with a wooden spoon. “I was thrilled when I heard that you were going to stop by because I only allow myself to make this on the days in December when people stop by. Will you drink some?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m so pleased that you and Connor have been spending time together lately.”
“Me too.”
“He’s lonely.”
Shay’s stomach dropped. “Oh?”
“He’s not a complainer and he hides it well. But yes. I worry that he’s lonely.” She added ingredients and continued to stir. “This is my mother’s recipe. It calls for milk, cocoa, sugar, chocolate chips, and vanilla. There’s no substitute for homemade.”
“I can’t think of a time when I’ve had homemade hot chocolate.”
“Then you’re in for a treat.” She winked, sampled the drink with a spoon, and placed the spoon in the sink.
“Can you . . . elaborate a little more on what’s going on with Connor?” Shay asked.
“He has a full life. His job, his family, his friends. But it’s a unique road he’s traveling, as my caregiver. I don’t know a single person in his circle who’s in the same boat as he is. He’s in his boat alone.”
“I understand.”
“He loves art. But he spends every spare minute in that studio. I don’t believe that’s purely because he loves it. I think he’s trying to fill the hours. And maybe process his emotions? His sorrow over my health. His heartbreak.”
“Heartbreak?”
“He reminds me sometimes of a person who’s given their heart away and now their heart’s living outside their body.” Penny poured hot chocolate into two matching Christmas mugs. “Here you are.”
Shay accepted her mug and they sat opposite one another at the kitchen table.
“It’s not as sweet as it should be because I didn’t have quite enough sugar,” Penny said. “Which is why I sent Connor on an emergency grocery store run.”