Santa Brought A Son. Melissa McClone

he could say the same. He touched one of the crystal hearts on the tree. Time to pull himself together. Samantha shouldn’t have him reverting to his former insecurities. Okay, she was beautiful, but he’d dated beautiful women before. Must be guilt over bringing up Art. It couldn’t be anything else. “I wanted to apologize for what I said back at the table.”

      “No need.”

      “I’m still sorry.” He checked for a loose bulb on the string of lights. “I would never want to cause you any pain.”

      “Now that’s a good one.”

      Her bitterness surprised him. She’s the one who didn’t want him. Perhaps she was having regrets. “I know it was a long time ago, but we once meant something to each other.”

      “Did we?”

      “Yes, we did.” At least he had thought so.

      She raised a shoulder. “All that was a big mistake.”

      Just as he’d assumed, their time together had meant nothing to her. “A mistake,” he repeated.

      “I knew you would agree.”

      But he didn’t. Not really. Being with Samantha had been both the best and the worst time of his life. A time of wonder and love. A time of rejection and disappointment. But he wouldn’t call it a mistake. Perhaps a lesson learned. “Sam—”

      “Found it.” She fiddled with the wires, and the lights stayed on. “No more flickering.”

      Reed wished he could say the same thing about his feelings for Samantha. His emotions seemed to be flickering on and off, and he didn’t know how to fix that.

      “The bride and groom want to be on their way, so let’s get all the single women on the dance floor for the bouquet toss,” the DJ announced.

      “That’s my cue to get the bride her bouquet. Excuse me.” Samantha rose, grateful for a valid reason to get away from Reed if only for a few minutes. She’d been upset at his returning to Fernville, but now she was annoyed at him. She hated the pity in his eyes. His need to apologize for bringing up Art.

      So she was a widow? It wasn’t by choice, but she’d learned to live with it. Because of Timmy, she’d had no choice.

      Timmy. The thought of her son filled her with warmth. Like her own parents, Reed had made the wrong choice where his child was concerned. He hadn’t wanted to be any part of Timmy’s life. Or hers. She wondered if he ever had regrets. She wondered if her own parents did. Not that it mattered. She’d only been wanted and loved on their terms. She and Timmy were better off without them in their lives.

      She picked up the smaller throw-away bouquet made with fire-and-ice roses and sprigs of pine and made her way through the crowded room to the dance floor. The sweet scent of the roses tickled her nostrils, reminding her this was a wedding not a wake. She was here to enjoy herself. No sense letting Reed Connors get to her. He wouldn’t be in Fernville forever. He didn’t care enough to cause problems. Time to stop overreacting. Didn’t she deserve a night out and some fun?

      At the dance floor, Samantha handed the bouquet to a beaming Kelli. “Here you go.”

      “Thanks.” Kelli sniffed the roses. “Make sure you stand where I can see you.”

      “Okay.” But it was far from okay. Getting stung by a bee would be less painful than battling the other women for a chance at the bouquet, but Samantha wasn’t about to disappoint her friend. She stood on the parquet dance floor, trying not to get jostled by a woman dressed in a hot pink dress, who jockeyed for a better position.

      “One, two…” Before the DJ reached three, Kelli tossed the bouquet over her right shoulder. The flowers soared through the air. A woman in a teal suit reached up, but was a second too late. The bouquet landed right in Samantha’s hands. She stared at the white roses with the red tips. Their coy scent wasn’t so sweet now, but Kelli was clapping and smiling. That’s the only thing that mattered.

      Samantha clutched the bouquet to her chest and grinned at her friend. “I can’t believe my luck,” she said dryly.

      As she walked off the dance floor, Mark removed the garter from Kelli’s left leg while men whistled and cheered. The DJ counted down again. On three, Mark fired the blue satin garter over his shoulder and into the crowd of bachelors. As the garter approached, the men backed away. The garter arced toward the floor when a hand snagged it out of the air.

      “Whoever caught that wanted it bad,” Claire said.

      She was such a romantic. Samantha knew better. “He probably had too much to drink and doesn’t realize what he’s done.”

      As Reed approached, he twirled the garter on his finger.

      Jenn raised a finely arched brow. “You caught the garter?”

      “I promised Mark if no one tried to catch it, I would.” Reed placed the garter on his arm. “Wedding traditions mean a lot to Kelli, and Mark didn’t want her to be disappointed.”

      Tears glistened in Claire’s eyes. “That is so sweet.”

      Samantha couldn’t believe it. Reed sounded so much like the boy she’d known in high school she felt a tug on her heart.

      “Would the pair who caught the garter and bouquet please join the bride and groom on the dance floor?” the DJ asked.

      No, she couldn’t. A momentary panic sent her rising from her chair. Reed stood also. Mark waved at them; Kelli grinned. At least the bride and groom were happy about this.

      It wasn’t a big deal, Samantha told herself as Reed led her back to the dance floor. One dance at a wedding in front of more than 150 people meant nothing. She repeated that to herself when he placed one hand on her shoulder and held her hand with the other. And repeated it again as they swayed to the music—a romantic ballad from one of the summer’s biggest movies.

      It was only a dance.

      Too bad it didn’t feel that way.

      Reed’s arms weren’t around her pulling her close, but they might as well have been. His warmth and strength seeped into her. Shivery sensations shot through her. Dancing with him felt like second nature. A nature better left untapped, a little voice cautioned. But she ignored it. Samantha had been alone for so long, she’d forgotten how nice it felt to dance and be held. His gentle touch sent tingles up her arm and down to the tips of her black leather pumps. Nerve endings came alive. Her heart, too. It went against all reason, but she hoped this once the song was a long one.

      Glancing up at Reed, her breath caught in her throat. Years ago, she’d dreamed of being on the dance floor with him at a wedding. Their wedding. But like all dreams, hers hadn’t come true. And she had one person to blame. She looked away.

      “Ladies and gentlemen,” the DJ announced. “Let’s give the couple dancing under the mistletoe some encouragement?”

      Guests tapped flatware against their glasses. Because of the clinking, Samantha assumed the DJ meant the bride and groom, but Kelli smiled and pointed toward the ceiling. Samantha didn’t have to look up to know what was above her and Reed. She’d been the one to hang the mistletoe on the dance floor.

      Reed’s eyes darkened. “Shall we?”

      No. That’s the last thing she wanted to do. Now or ever.

      But one brief kiss was nothing more than a holiday tradition. And it would mean a lot to Kelli. One peck wasn’t about to set the town gossips’ tongues wagging. Or change anything. Past, present, future. “Why not?”

      She waited for Reed to take the lead. He lowered his mouth to hers. The moment his lips touched her, sensation rocketed through her. Electric shock, chemical reaction, you name it—she felt it. Talk about a swoonworthy kiss. If Reed hadn’t wrapped his arm around her she would have fallen. She waited for him to back away but he didn’t.

      Stop, she should