Maybe she was starting to unbend just a little bit. He hoped so. If anyone needed to unwind and let go of tension it was Hope. He only wished he knew what had her so tied up in knots. It wasn’t just her friend Julie. He understood that now. She needed to grieve, and not just for her friend. But what? Why was she so demanding of herself?
She disappeared into the closet. She’d bought him a Christmas present and that surprised him—especially after the episode in the snow. She’d told him she didn’t have feelings for him. She was a damned liar, but he knew she didn’t want to have feelings for him and that essentially amounted to the same thing. Hands off. No matter what he was feeling in return.
Trouble was, he didn’t want her to go. He wanted her to stay, to see if what was between them was real. For the first time since he’d broken up with his ex he trusted a woman to see beyond the surface. It had all changed the day she’d touched his scar with a tenderness and reverence that had humbled him.
He wasn’t sure if he was in love with her or not, but he wanted the opportunity to find out. And he couldn’t do that if she left for good tomorrow.
“I hope these are what you were looking for,” she said, coming out of the closet carrying a gift bag very carefully as if what was inside was incredibly fragile.
He took the bag from her hands and heard a funny jingle. He opened the bag and peered inside. His heart gave a little catch. He reached in and pulled out a leather strap. The clear sound of bells filled the room.
“Cate said she wanted bells on the sleigh, so...”
He looked in her eyes. In the bright sunlight of her bedroom they were stunningly blue, full of hope and uncertainty. It hit him then. The professional manner, the precision and perfection—it wasn’t confidence. It was covering up a massive case of insecurity. Was she worried he wouldn’t like them? That they wouldn’t suit? There were so many more layers to Hope than he’d first thought. It touched him that she was so obviously trying to please him. That she’d bothered to find something so appropriate, so personal.
He slid the leather over his palm and smiled. “They’re perfect, Hope. Where ever did you find them?”
“In an antique store just outside Calgary,” she replied. “You’re sure they’ll work?”
“Oh, they’ll work. They’ll be perfect.” He looked up and smiled. “Thank you, Hope. It was very thoughtful of you to go to the trouble.”
She blushed. Color infused the crests of her cheeks much to Blake’s delight. The more she let go of the veneer she protected herself with, the more he liked her. Right now, with a bit of flour across the breast of her apron, her hair in a ponytail and a glow to her cheek, she looked adorable.
Was he actually considering a relationship, then? It would be a mistake to think that way. No matter how much he was starting to care for her, he knew she would never be happy here. Their lives were so different, and his first priority was the program.
She was right. He probably shouldn’t have kissed her. Too bad he couldn’t quite muster up an appropriate amount of regret.
“You’re welcome. I thought...I thought the kids would like them.”
“They will. They’ll make tonight perfect.” She was looking at him so hopefully he knew he had to keep the mood light before he got himself in trouble yet again. “I have something for you, too.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
He nodded. “Not a present as such... Well, hold on. I’ll get it and explain.”
He made a quick trip to his room and grabbed the shopping bag from his closet. There was no guarantee she would go for it, but he hoped she would. Hope needed to let her hair down and show some silliness. They needed to have fun, and he had to stop thinking about her in ways that would get him nowhere. Their kisses before had been surprising and spontaneous, but there was something more now. A gravity between them. He couldn’t quite put his finger on when or how it had changed but there was something—something important and a little sad and slightly desperate in these last twenty-four hours before her departure.
Back in her room, he handed her the bag. “I’m dressing up as Santa tonight and handing out some small presents to the kids. I was kind of hoping you would help.”
She opened the bag and stared at the contents. “This is...” She put the bag down on the bed and drew out a hat, green-and-red striped, with a bell on the end. “This is an elf hat.”
“Santa needs an elf,” he said lightly, but he wasn’t encouraged when he saw her frown.
She pulled out the tunic and tights and his favorite bit—the shoes, curled up at the toes and with bells attached to the tips.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Hey, at least you don’t have to stuff your costume with pillows and wear a scratchy beard,” he remarked, forcing a chuckle.
“You do realize I was hired to take pictures?”
“I know that. I thought over the last few days that had changed into something more.” He remembered hearing her laugh as he tackled her in the snow, the taste of her lips all the sweeter because she’d been a willing and equal participant. He took her hand. “I thought we were something more,” he said quietly.
“You know that’s impossible.”
And yet there was a hint of longing in her voice that he didn’t miss. “So we’re not friends?”
She pulled her hand away. “I didn’t think that was what you meant. I hadn’t really thought about it,” she said, but her gaze slid from his. She had thought about it. They both had—too much.
“Have you never done something silly? Something just for fun, Hope? Have you seen the look on a kid’s face when he or she sits on Santa’s lap? It’s Christmas. I want to give them something awesome—there’s not enough fun in their lives. And I want to give you something, too.”
“What’s that?” She put the costume back on the bed and faced him, her guard fully up and functional again.
“A memory,” he said. “A good Christmas memory. Because I think you need one—desperately.”
The guard slipped just a little as her eyes widened and he saw his chance.
“Trust me.” He lifted his hand and touched her cheek with his finger. “Can you trust me for tonight, Hope?”
“I leave tomorrow, Blake.”
“I know that. Believe me, I know.” He wished he had more time. Time to get to know her better. Time to...
Aw, hell. Maybe it was better this way. He was already getting too involved. Much more and she’d really be able to hurt him. He knew for a fact that she wouldn’t be back. She’d go back to her life in Sydney and that would be that, wouldn’t it? Girls like her didn’t stay. They didn’t settle.
But it didn’t stop the wanting. Or the need to do this for her. For all of them.
“Trust me,” he repeated. “Wear the costume. Be my elf. Drink hot cocoa and eat cookies and let yourself be a kid again, Hope. Just this once.”
She looked down at the costume and back up at him again. “You are so going to owe me for this.”
And he was going to enjoy paying the price. “You’ll do it?”
“I’ll do it. For the kids, mind you.”
“For the kids,” he repeated. “You’d better get back to your cookies.”
“The cookies! They’ve probably burned!” She rushed from the room, leaving the elf costume scattered on the bedspread and the