Page 51 of A Winter Wish

But despite the way she tried to reason it out, to convince herself that the heat now licking at her insides was only because she felt embarrassed—or guilty for leaving him at a table alone—she couldn’t quite hide behind it. Because she knew that somewhere over the last few days she’d fallen into liking him—even if she wasn’t sure she wanted to. And she also knew that if he was up here dancing with someone else, she’d feel…well, a bit like the way he looked, scowling over at them. She’d probably have stalked off, leaving the party altogether, or else found someone of her own just to show she didn’t care and—

“Mind if I cut in?”

Lexie jumped, moving out of the Spanish man’s hold as she did so, at the sound of Theo’s voice behind her. Her breath whooshed out—partly in surprise, and partly in relief, that he hadn’t gone off to find some other girl, like in the scenario her overactive imagination had been playing to her.

He took Lexie’s hand and gave the Spanish man a one-eyebrow look that clearly told him to sod off. The man looked for a second like he might say something, but maybe her earlier protest at him getting a touch too grabby had made him decide he wasn’t going to get what he wanted from her, so he gave a shrug and headed into the crowd to find someone else.

Lexie felt a rush of indignation at being moved from man to man like she was a thing to claim. She pulled back from Theo, shoving at his chest. His hands moved to lightly rest on her waist, not keeping her there, just barely touching.

“What are you doing? What if I wanted to—?”

But his hands slid down her waist to her hips, his fingers curling there, and her skin heated. And really, who was she kidding? Because being this close to him, even surrounded by other people, she knew there was no point in trying to lie about it—to him or to herself. She might not really have understood why, but it was his hands she wanted on her right now.

“Wanted to what?” he asked.

She swallowed. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“Gladly,” he said, his voice low, on the edge of a growl. He started moving, pulling her with him into the beat. Her hands went to rest on his shoulders, and she told herself firmly to keep them there.

She cleared her throat, trying to ease some of the tension between them. “When I was twenty-one, I wished for a 2:1 in my course at university. I was studying biology, which in hindsight was a terrible idea—I’m really not good at it.”

His eyes stayed level on hers, and the corner of his mouth crooked up. “And?”

“I got a 2:2.”

“Better than me—I didn’t even go to university. As my parents like to remind me on a regular basis.” He looked at her expectantly—she was supposed to ask a question.

She searched his face briefly before asking. “Why do you care so much about the company? Why…What was the deal with you and my dad?”

He didn’t falter as they kept in time to the music, but she saw his brow pull together. “Your dad…” He glanced down at her, like he was figuring out how much to say—or what would upset her to hear. “So, you know how I called you flighty?”

“I vaguely remember the implication, yes.”

“Yeah, well. The thing is, I jumped to that conclusion because I was like that. After I left Ireland, I moved around a lot. I couldn’t settle and I went through a phase of fucking everything up. What you do, moving around…It’s something that clearly works for you, and that’s what I didn’t get. But for me…”

His eyes weren’t focused on her anymore, so she could look at his face freely, watching the expressions play out there.

“I tried so hard, to be what my parents wanted—and then, because it never worked, I suppose I tried to be the opposite. It might be a cliché, but it’s true. Bounced around a lot, didn’t try too hard because I didn’t want to fail.”

She wanted to ask more—about why he wasn’t what his parents wanted, about what he’d done while he bounced around. But she also didn’t want to interrupt, in case he stopped talking.

“I got the job with Richard through coincidence, really—saw an advert for a junior position at a travel company, thought, hey, that sounds like fun for a bit. He took a chance on me—and I think I’ve already said that Ange may have had something to do with that. But I hit a snag early on, screwed something up. Funny thing is, I don’t even remember what I screwed up. But it was enough that I tried to quit—you know, get out before you get fired. Before I failed. But Richard wouldn’t let me. Just kept refusing to let me leave—and instead he spent time with me, teaching me stuff, not getting worried if I got things wrong. It was the first time anyone had ever done that. And because I stuck at it, I got better at it. So Richard, he made me feel like I was good at something. He listened when I talked, too, and made me feel like my ideas were, you know, valuable.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, and she could sense some embarrassment there, at admitting all this. “And now, I think the company is cool, and I want to carry it on for him. He loved what he did, and it was something he poured everything into—and when he died, I didn’t like the idea of that being lost.”

Lexie went quiet, thinking, as the music changed, slowed. She tried to imagine it. The man who had left her, who had let her down repeatedly—this was also someone who had helped Theo, who had made him feel a little less lost. And that was why he’d hated the idea of sharing the company with her in the first place, wasn’t it? Because he’d wanted to keep the legacy alive, and she’d wanted nothing to do with it.

“Why? Why do you think he didn’t let you give up?”

He shrugged again rather than answering.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“I never asked.” He hesitated, and it was like he knew she needed more than that. “I was with him when he found that restaurant in Menton—you know, the one we ate at during the Lemon Festival.” Lexie nodded, remembering. “He admired those guys so much, because they just weren’t giving up. It was something he talked about a lot—but I think maybe that was the first time it really hit home for me. He used to say that you could never do everything perfectly, but that if you at least tried, you’d have less to regret in the long run.”

“I’ve never really thought of him as a ‘trying’ or ‘sticking with it’ kind of guy. What with, you know. Everything.”

He nodded slowly. “Maybe that’s why, though. Maybe he was so determined to stick with the company—and to help me stick with it—because he didn’t want to repeat his mistakes of the past.”

“Maybe,” she said, hedging. And maybe she’d never know for sure. Maybe there were a lot of things that she’d never have answers to, about why her dad had done what he did over the years. She bit her lip as she glanced at Theo, thinking about what he’d said. I think the company is cool, and I want to carry it on. Something pulled at her. Because they might have put that conversation on hold, but at some point it was going to come back around to bite them.