It Had to Be You (Christiansen Family) (20 page)

What if he was right? That she wanted to be with Jace because he was a star? She wound her hands together on her lap, remembering her behavior yesterday and Jace’s words about not wanting to draw headlines.

Maybe you do.
Her chest burned. What if Jace thought she only liked him because of his star power? And when she hadn’t kissed him back, it added to his wounds. As if she weren’t interested in
him
.

No wonder he’d done a full-out backpedal.

When the sermon ended, she slid out of the pew, leaving the
introductions of their resident superstar to Casper and Grace while she escaped to the bathroom.

Eden emerged to find her family gathered in the foyer, a small crowd around Jace, Grace at his elbow. Amelia took a shot with her phone of a couple local hockey players in the congregation posing with him.

Jace looked every inch a celebrity in his dress pants, a gray shirt, a sports jacket. His hair combed back, curly behind his ears, and that intoxicating, half-dimpled J-Hammer smile.

For a second, it blew her off her shoes. What had she been thinking, believing for a second he could do normal? That she might even share the spotlight with him? Not that she’d consciously thought it, but clearly she’d been lying to herself.

As she watched, her family moved en masse toward the exit, greeting the pastor, then heading out the door to their cars.

Eden sighed as she finally followed them out.

J
ACE HELD THE DOOR OPEN
for Grace and Amelia to climb into the back of the Charger, then slid into the passenger side while Casper took the wheel.

Not until Casper had the car in reverse did Jace stop him with a hand on his arm. “Where’s Eden?”

Casper glanced behind him as if trying to remember where he’d seen her last. “I don’t know. Maybe she’s going with Mom and Dad.” They had taken two vehicles to church, but Eden rode down with him on the way.

“We can’t leave her
 
—”

“We’re not leaving her
 
—see, look, Dad’s driving up to the entrance. She’s coming out. She was probably gabbing with one of her friends.”

But as Jace watched her climb into the van, fingers tightened in his chest. No, she’d been standing outside their circle, watching as Amelia
 
—and others
 
—took his picture. And he’d let it happen. So easily slid into a moment of fame and left her behind that he felt ill. No wonder she longed for the spotlight
 
—even the people who loved her pushed her out of it.

No,
cared for
. Not
loved
. The word embedded in his thoughts as they drove away from the tiny Deep Haven Community Church and toward the house. Nice service, decent pastor. It had been a while since Jace sang hymns, and he’d missed them. Mini sermons set to song. Most often he attended the players’ service on the road, singing next to Max and Kalen, trying to block their measly voices from his brain. The team chaplain had good sermons, though. The kind that got Jace thinking about his life outside hockey.

A life that had seemed impossible until this weekend. His conversation with Eden wouldn’t let him alone. Despite his words to her, no, hockey wasn’t enough. Not near enough.

He wanted it all. A family. A home. A wife. Kids.

Like Tiger, climbing into his lap for a story. Jace had nearly folded into a soggy mess yesterday when the kid came up to him holding
Goodnight Moon
. He’d lost himself in what-if as the tyke snuggled in his lap.

It made him call Sam, just to check in on Maddy, who continued to wait for a miracle heart. The sadness in Sam’s voice and the camaraderie of the Christiansens only conspired to show him exactly what might be missing from his life. The
more
he longed for.

And then, last night, he’d gone and blown it
 
—big. Kissing Eden like . . . like she wanted the same thing.

He hadn’t had a girl stiffen in his arms like that
ever
.

The memory had driven him out of bed, into the early morning
sunrise, thirsty for a little hope. He couldn’t shake the sense that he lived a mediocre Christian life. Caught in the no-man’s-land between God’s grace and God’s favor. After all, how could God truly delight in a man who had lived Jace’s violent life?

Who’d permanently destroyed another’s?

That’s what we should be hearing . . . the delight, the applause of heaven.
Eden’s voice, cheering him on as usual. He leaned his head against the rest and closed his eyes, half-listening to Amelia and Grace in the backseat, planning lunch.

He hadn’t a clue what the applause of heaven might sound like.

However, Eden should surely hear it. After everything she’d done for others.

“I’d like to do something nice for Eden.”

He’d interrupted them, and the car silenced.

“What?” Amelia said.

Jace glanced at her. “I’d like to do something nice for Eden. Something that makes her feel special.”

Amelia frowned, and from the driver’s seat, Casper added, “It’s because he’s got a thing for her.”

“I knew it!” Grace said. She grinned at Jace, her eyes twinkling. “I heard all about the kiss.”

“You kissed her? Dude. I thought we talked about this.” Casper gave him a look.

“We didn’t
 
—I mean . . . Okay, listen. It was a mistake.”

“What, your lips just happened to fall on hers?”

“No, but . . . don’t get your shorts in a knot; she didn’t kiss me back.”

“Yet,” Grace said.

Really?

“I’d say give it another go
 
—”

“Grace!” Casper said. “Listen to the man. They’re just friends.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Amelia said, her nose in her phone. Probably tweeting this very conversation.

“Only if he doesn’t make another move. Because you know Eden. This is all on him.” Grace leaned between the seats. “If you want her, you’ll have to try again. Go after her.” She peered at him, her face solemn. “Do you want her?”

He stilled. Casper glanced at him. Amelia looked up from her phone. A hand wrapped around his throat.

Then . . . “Yes.”

The word came out fast, like a slap shot on goal, and he thought it might have bounced out, so he took a breath, said it again. “Yes. I like your sister.”

“More than friends?” Amelia asked.

“Wow, it runs in the family
 
—you guys don’t take prisoners, do you?”

Grace grinned and Casper shook his head.

“But what if she thinks I’m too . . . aggressive?”

The car went silent.

“Okay, listen, it’s not like I attacked her, so don’t start plotting how to leave my body in the woods, but the truth is, I can’t shake free of this fear that she’ll think I’m coming on too strong.”

Grace hung on the seat. “So you make the grand gesture, but you let her decide. And for the record, Casper, it might take something big for Eden to figure it out. Maybe start with something . . . nice, before going in for the kill.”

Casper glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Could you rephrase that for the sake of the brother in the car?”

Grace laughed, and even Jace found a smile.

“What kind of gesture?”

Grace sat back, thinking. Casper took a left onto the road that cut toward Evergreen Resort.

“C’mon, guys. Can’t you think of anything she likes?”

“Okay. Uh, let’s see. Eden likes flowers. And she . . . is into books,” Casper said.

“She won a writing contest once, in first grade. Made the paper. Mom cut it out and kept it on the fridge for years,” Grace added. “Mom’s like that
 
—a keeper of stuff. Drawings and awards. Every time we made the paper, she put it on the fridge. One time I counted, and Darek had five articles, Casper had four, I had some, and Amelia even had a couple photos published. Of course, Owen had like nine articles. Now Mom has an entire separate scrapbook for him. And then there was Eden’s article, faded and yellow, still from first grade.”

“I remember that,” Amelia said. “It finally dried up and fell off the fridge.”

“Eden just had the one?”

“Well, she eventually had two. One for the writing contest, and the other was for winning the high school variety show her senior year.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s part of the senior project. Every senior has to dress up and portray someone from history. It’s a competition, and they get graded on it. Eden won that year
 
—I think she played Judy Garland. Sang a song . . . I can’t remember, but Darek might know. She was a hit. Stole the show.”

They pulled into the resort driveway. Casper turned off the car. “Sorry. I wish we were more help. I guess we don’t know Eden as well as we should.”

Jace didn’t argue with them as they piled out of the car. The
Caravan pulled up next to them. He waited while Eden and the crew got out, then walked with her up to the house, holding the door open for her.

The smile she gave him seemed distant.

Darek was easy to track down after Sunday lunch. Jace left Eden cleaning dishes with her mother as Grace stirred up a batch of monster cookies, Owen returning to his dungeon in the basement. Jace grabbed his jacket and Casper’s boots and trudged out into the cold, heading for the sound of a Skilsaw in one of the smaller cabins.

They’d erected five cabins, all two- and three-bedroom shoreline retreats with tiny front porches and empty window boxes. When they finished, and when the forest grew back, the place would be the perfect north shore hideaway.

His sweatshirt covered in sawdust, Darek was busy applying baseboard to the main room of the cabin. The place smelled of pine and fresh paint, the sunlight scouring up jeweled dust particles in its rays.

Darek leaned back on his haunches and nodded to Jace as he came in.

Jace spied John in the bedroom, painting. He smiled at Jace, and the same warm feeling from yesterday licked through him.

He’d never done well around dads. Not the fathers of the few girls he’d actually dated. Especially not his own.

This dad, however, felt different. As if he actually liked Jace. But that was yesterday, when Jace just wanted to be Eden’s friend.

“Grab that box of nails, will you?”

Jace handed Darek the nails, and he reloaded.

Darek leaned down, pushing the baseboard against the wall. “Give it a nudge at the end?”

He held the board tight against the wall as Darek nailed it in. “I don’t suppose you brought me some of Grace’s monster cookies?” Darek asked. “I think I can smell them from here.”

“They weren’t done yet. I can go back
 
—”

“Nah. I’ll get them when I pick up Tiger.” He lifted another length of board. “You’re good with him, you know.”

“He’s a cute kid. Got him on skates yet?”

Darek grinned. “Yep. Hey, there are some knee pads in the corner.” He nodded toward them, and Jace took the hint. “Just fit the other end of the board to the wall.”

Jace grabbed the end. “I have a question for you. Casper said something about Eden winning some contest in high school, maybe as Judy Garland?”

“Oh yeah. She sang ‘It Had to Be You.’ Eden got it off a recording with her and Bob Hope, had a buddy of hers play Bob Hope’s part. Brought down the house, although she won’t admit it. First time I ever heard her sing outside church. She was real good, seemed to ham it up, even love the spotlight.” He hummed a few bars. “Mom cut out the article, put it on the fridge. I remember seeing Eden reading it a couple times. Okay, hand me the next board.”

Jace obeyed. “Did you say you knew the band playing tonight? Is there any way I can get ahold of them?”

Darek glanced at him. “Before tonight?”

Jace felt John’s eyes on him from the other room but didn’t flinch as he slowly nodded.

Jace took a shower before dinner and came down in a powder-blue dress shirt, a pair of dark pants. Eden sat at the counter wearing jeans and a sweater. “This is Deep Haven,” she said, but she
disappeared and twenty minutes later reappeared in a floral top, leggings, and tall black boots.

“We’re meeting Ivy and Darek there,” Jace said. Ingrid and Tiger sat at the table doing a puzzle, and he lifted a hand to them as they left.

Jace stood at the driver’s door by the time Eden came out, pulling on her parka. He held out his hand, gesturing for the keys.

“Seriously?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I know my way around town.”

“What, did you memorize a map of Deep Haven during your wanderings? Where were you, anyway? I didn’t see you all afternoon.”

Not yet, Eden. “Being a normal guy. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

For a second, he had the crazy hope she would argue. Say that, no, in fact, she’d wanted him to herself.

But her mouth simply tightened around the edges, and he bit back the taste of disappointment.

“Fine.” She slapped the keys into his hand and went around to the passenger door. She had to readjust the seat, but he waited until she buckled.

“I just hope Owen doesn’t see you driving his car,” she said, glancing at the house.

“He hasn’t said two words to me since yesterday,” he said, backing out. “I thought it was better to stay away from the house today. I don’t want any more altercations.”

“I’m sorry. I thought he’d like having you here. It’ll be a long drive to the Cities tomorrow.”

“I can handle Owen if you can,” he said.

He hit the radio as they rode into town. Sinatra came on, singing “Cry Me a River.”

“‘Now you say you love me . . .’”

She frowned at him.

“C’mon, Eden, loosen up. Sing along.”

“I don’t
 
—”

“I know. You don’t get that loose.”

He pulled up to the VFW, then went around to help her as she got out, but she beat him to it.

She didn’t take his arm as they walked in.

Yeah, well, he had plans to remedy that.

They found an empty side table that seated four, and he moved his chair next to hers. The VFW reminded him of his mother’s workplace, complete with the stage, the long bar with local rummies bellied up for beer, the has-beens playing pool, all swagger and story. He’d never liked the Bunny Cocktail Lounge
 
—it always made him want to slink away, especially when he saw men adding tips to his mother’s outfit. But she always came home after work, didn’t stay after like the other waitresses.

This place was more local hangout than pickup bar. Onstage, the Blue Monkeys twined out their bluesy tune. The lead singer, a pretty brunette with her hair tied back, played bass guitar. Another singer, short-haired, playing an acoustic, stood behind her, harmonizing. Into the mic beside her, a blond man on harmonica added to the bridge, and behind them all, a drummer kept looking at the lead singer as if she belonged to him.