A Savannah Christmas Wish. Nan Dixon

      He held up his hand. The scar between his thumb and forefinger stood out, a white stripe on his tan skin.

      “That wasn’t my fault.” She chewed her lip.

      “How can you say that?” He leaned forward. “You took old windowpanes to make some sort of greenhouse. You were what? Thirteen?”

      “Twelve.” She winced. “And it was working just fine until you got involved.”

      “Pop and your mother were worried the glass would fall and slice your head off.” He threw up the scarred hand and slapped it against the bed. “They made me take it apart, and I was the one who got hurt.”

      “Everything was fine.” Or would have been if Daniel had just left her homemade greenhouse alone.

      He rolled his eyes. “How about when you followed me and my date to Forsythe Park?”

      She swallowed. “I was taking a walk.”

      “You were spying.”

      “I was fourteen.” She raised her eyebrows. “And you shouldn’t have had your hand on her boob.”

      “You should have stayed away from me. But you just couldn’t help butting in. You lied and said my mother was looking for me.” He inhaled. “Chaos surrounds you. You can’t control your impulses.”

      “Control my impulses?” She was controlling them right now. He didn’t know how much she wanted to punch him in the nose.

      “I grew up in chaos.” He grabbed his pants and jerked them on. “Every time I turned around, Nathan was creating trouble or weaseling out of trouble. I can’t live like that.”

      “Control. That’s you to a T.” She knelt on the mattress facing him, the sheet wrapped around her body. “At least you had some control last night. This time I had an orgasm.”

      He ripped a hand through his hair. “Do you even remember yanking me into a fountain?”

      “And wet shoes forced you to have sex with me?” She waved a hand over the neutral zone between their bodies. She should keep her mouth shut, but this was humiliating. “Having sex was my fault?”

      “Not this time.” He pulled on his shirt, letting the words sink in.

      “Sure. I seduced you when we were young, but you hardly pushed me away then, or last night.”

      “I was drunk.”

      “Do you realize how stupid you sound?” She’d changed, but Daniel couldn’t or didn’t want to see that.

      “It’s never happening again. We’ll...just stay away from each other.”

      “Fine with me.” She tucked the sheet even higher around her chest. “I wouldn’t sleep with you if we were the last two people on an island. I wouldn’t sleep with you if you begged me next time.”

      “Great.”

      The thorn wedged itself in her chest, piercing her heart. “Get out.”

      * * *

      AFTER THE WEDDING BRUNCH, everyone waved Mamma and Martin off in front of Fitzgerald House.

      Moving into the entryway, Bess asked her sisters, “Do you have fifteen minutes?”

      “Sure,” Dolley said.

      “What’s up?” Abby asked as they headed to the kitchen’s sitting area with a fresh pot of tea.

      Stalling, Bess added milk to her mug before pouring her tea. She hated this. “Daniel’s turning my apartment into a condo.”

      As she said the bastard’s name, her face heated.

      Dolley rocked back in the love seat, her mug paused next to her lips. “Really?”

      “I’ve checked with a couple of mortgage companies, but I don’t qualify for a large enough loan.” Bess took a deep breath. “Cade laid me off last week.” Her words rattled out.

      “What?” Dolley came out of her chair.

      “Cade let me go. His son has his degree now. He’s not very good, but there isn’t enough business for two landscape architects.”

      “Cade’s an idiot,” Dolley said.

      Abby put her hand on Bess’s arm. “What can we do?”

      “I’ll find another job.” She hoped. “This gives me the time to concentrate on Carleton House.”

      “Perfect.” Abby’s green eyes held too much sympathy.

      Bess didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her.

      “It’s wrong.” Dolley frowned. “You lose both your job and your apartment. How can Daniel do that to you?”

      “It’s not Daniel’s fault.” Bess hated defending a man who’d humiliated her—twice. Well, three times now, if she counted the two times ten years ago. God, she was a fool.

      Men always broke her heart. Why had she thought her job would be different? She rubbed her temple, relieved her headache had eased. “Forester Construction needs the money to cover Carleton House’s operating expenses.”

      Abby touched her hand. “For us.”

      Dolley tugged on her red curls. “That sucks.”

      “I can’t blame them,” Bess said.

      Abby pulled her hand away from her mouth. Bess hadn’t noticed she’d been chewing her nails.

      “When do you have to move?” Dolley asked.

      “Daniel’s letting me stay until they have a purchase agreement on my place, but only if I move my plants. Gray’s lending me his truck so I can move them into the sunroom and parlors.” She didn’t want or need Daniel’s help.

      “I’ll help,” Dolley said.

      “Thanks.” Her fingers sank into the arm of her chair. “I love my apartment.”

      “Once Gray and I move into the Carleton carriage house, you’ll move into the Fitzgerald carriage house,” Abby said.

      “Maybe.” Tears stung her eyes. She hated the idea of moving home.

      “What about a job?” Dolley asked.

      “I’ve updated my résumé and sent it out.” She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the ache there. Fall was not the time to be looking for a job in her industry.

      “You’re an artist.” Abby’s face was fierce. “Anyone would be lucky to have you work for them.”

      “Thanks.” Bess eyes misted over. “Until I get another job, I’ll push hard on the Carleton House gardens.”

      “Perfect.” Abby rubbed Bess’s arm. “There’s so much work. I’ve worried how you would get everything done.”

      Dolley tipped her head. “We’ll increase your draw.”

      “Why?” Bess frowned. “We’re an equal partnership. I shouldn’t be treated differently.”

      “Dolley’s right.” Abby raised her hands. “We aren’t equal. I’ve always had a different draw because I’m full-time. You’ll be working full time.”

      “I guess that could work.” But it felt like a handout to Bess.

      “I have an idea.” Abby snapped her fingers. “You can be the liaison between Samuel, Gray and us on Carleton House.”

      “That’s a great idea.” Dolley leaned forward. “When you get another job, we’ll work something else out.”

      Bess tapped her lip. Being involved with the construction side would be fun. “I’d love to work