Page 27 of A Winter Wish

As had a different memory, one from a few years later. One where he’d promised to come and take Lexie to a fireworks display, just the two of them, but had never shown up. Her mum had taken her instead, and Lexie kept making her check her phone because she was worried that her dad might try to call, because there had to be a reason he was late, and he wouldn’t know where to find them. But he never did.

“I don’t like fireworks.” She said it quietly, like a secret. She wasn’t even sure who she was speaking to—but Lucy was leaning forward and had her phone out to take photos, and apparently hadn’t heard. Theo, however, looked her way. She felt his gaze on the side of her face, but she kept looking straight out at the display as she spoke again. “They’re pretty and fun and all that, but…They make me think of my dad.” Stupid, to say it out loud, to admit that vulnerability—especially when Theo clearly thought her dad had been someone to look up to. She felt something bubbling in her stomach, like it was trying to get out. She swallowed, tried to shove the emotion back inside—and forced the memory back too. The noise of the fireworks was a relief. It meant she didn’t have to explain—and meant Theo wasn’t required to talk, even though he’d heard.

He didn’t ask. Didn’t question how or why fireworks made her think of her dad, why that made her sad. Instead he said, just as quietly, “I don’t like fireworks either.” She risked a glance at him, but now it was him staring straight ahead. “I pretend to, for the clients. And they’re pretty and fun and all that…” She let out a huff of laughter at him using her words. An admission for an admission—was that what this was? “My parents never took me to see them,” he continued. “As a kid, I mean. They weren’t really big into those kinds of ‘overly chaotic and hyperactive celebrations.’ ”

What had he been like as a kid? she wondered. “Are fireworks inherently chaotic?”

“Well, I suppose they’re a bit loud. And some people think that’s chaotic, don’t they? I think my dad’s point was that children go all mental, hopped up on sugar and cider or whatever it is you have when you watch them and then you have to all squish together to watch in that chaos.”

“Yes, I’ve heard kids are all into the cider these days.”

Theo snorted quietly. “They said fireworks are bad for the environment,” he continued after a beat. “My parents, I mean. I was annoyed for a while, thought they were doing it out of some weird principle or to keep me from doing something I wanted to do. Classic egotistical seven-year-old. But then I realized they’re right—they are really bad for the environment. The birds get upset and the wildlife panic, and for what? So we can enjoy a pretty show.”

Lexie watched the last few fireworks, hearing the laughter, the gasps of delight. “You’re right,” she said eventually.

“I am?”

“It’s as much of a shock to me as it is to you, trust me.” She glanced at him, saw his lips twitch.

“Kind of takes the romance out of the moment, doesn’t it?”

When the show was over, they all stood up and made their way out of the grandstand. At the bottom, Lucy turned to smile at Theo and Lexie. “I’m guessing that’s the main event done with?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” Theo said. “We’ll hang around for a bit in case anyone wants to grab another drink, though, if you’re keen?”

Lucy shook her head. “I’m loving this, but I want to take it easy.”

“I can walk you—” Theo began.

“No, don’t be silly. I actually want to take a beat, walk on my own. Is that OK? It’s on my list of things I want to accomplish this holiday—all part of being braver.”

“You got it. But if you need us, you’ve got our numbers.”

“I do.” Lucy squeezed Lexie’s arm as she passed. “What you and your dad have built is so cool. I know some people might just think it’s a silly little holiday, but it’s given me the courage to think I can do things on my own again. Maybe on my own for real next time.”

With Theo right there in hearing distance, Lexie thought he was going to grumble about the you and your dad, but he said nothing. Still, it made Lexie feel funny. It was like a different version of their father-daughter relationship was being posited—one they could have had, if he hadn’t left. But obviously she couldn’t say that to Lucy, so she just smiled her thanks and said she’d see her in the morning.

Theo and Lexie were quiet for a moment after Lucy left. The crowd was dispersing, but most of their group were lingering.

“Lexie?”

She looked up at Theo.

“I’m sorry about your dad. I should have said that a lot sooner.”

She felt the lump in her throat rise back up. She wasn’t sure what to do with the apology, wasn’t sure what it was supposed to mean. She remembered what he’d said during the solicitor’s meeting. You never bothered to answer your dad’s calls—and it’s not like you’re ever actually around. Could hear the echo of his voice when she’d overheard him talking to Ange in the office. She clearly didn’t care about her dad, so why would she care about the company?

But she remembered too what Ange had said. Let’s just say I think he’s a little lost, without Richard. Thought of the way he’d looked, when he’d talked about Richard earlier. Your dad was good at it too—chatting to people, making them feel welcome right away. Was that why Theo was so set on continuing what her dad had started? Was it because her dad had made him feel “welcome”?

“I’m sorry too,” she found herself saying. “If he meant something to you. I mean, I don’t know what the deal was, really, and I’m still totally confused about why he left us both in this mess and why he thought it was appropriate to—”

He coughed, as if pointing out she’d slipped into babble mode, and she flushed. “Well. You know what I mean.”

“Rarely, if ever.” His voice was dry—but it wasn’t mean.

She blew out a breath. “I’m just sorry. I know you lost him too.” The words were out before she could think better of them, and she felt the way his gaze lingered on her face, like he was taking in the words. Too. You lost him too, she’d said. Like they were in the same situation, like there was some sort of grief to be shared.

Theo looked like he might have been about to say something, but then a few other tourists jolted past them, buffeting Lexie out of the way. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her to one side. It was a quick, efficient move. There was no twining of fingers or sensual caress of his thumb over her skin. So why did it make her pulse jump? Why did that point of contact crackle with electricity?