A Bravo For Christmas. Christine Rimmer

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A Bravo For Christmas - Christine  Rimmer


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the best daughter I ever had,” said Kate, same as she always did when Ava helped her out a little.

      And as always, Ava replied, “I’m your only daughter, so I’d better be the best.”

      Kate grabbed her close for a hug. “Thanks, baby.”

      “You’re welcome. Love you, Mom...”

      * * *

      Thanksgiving with the Bravos. It should have been great.

      Ava had been looking forward to all the warmth and good times of a big family get-together—but minus her bossy brothers and her mother’s relentless attempts to get her to start dating again. However, no matter how often Ava lectured herself about keeping things in perspective, her own cringe-worthy behavior at the Blueberry troop clubhouse Monday afternoon had turned her anticipation to dread.

      Through Tuesday and Wednesday and the first half of the big day itself, she kept up the internal pep talks. She told herself it was nothing. People said ridiculous things to each other all the time. She needed to get over it and move on.

      And anyway, there would be a crowd at Clara’s. It should be easy to steer clear of Darius. Given time, they would both forget her over-the-top comeback to his silly, meaningless flirting.

      She and Sylvie arrived at Clara and Dalton Ames’s house right on time at two.

      Clara swung the door open, and the wonderful, savory smells of garlic, sage and roast turkey drifted out. She ushered Ava and Sylvie in and then enfolded each of them in a welcoming hug. “So good to see you.”

      “You, too,” said Ava, admiring the garland of autumn leaves twined on the stair rail and the miniature pumpkins and gourds piled in a decorative bowl on the entry table. “Everything looks so festive, and dinner smells amazing.”

      Judging by the laughter and chatter coming from the great room down the hall, the beautiful old Victorian was already packed with Bravos. Franklin Bravo, the family patriarch, had fathered nine children—four by his first wife, Sondra. And five more by his then-mistress and eventually his second wife, Willow. Of those nine Bravo siblings and half siblings, four were married now and three of those had children. All of them were expected for dinner today, so avoiding Darius should be no problem.

      “Toss your coats on the bed in there,” Clara said, indicating the master bedroom off the front hall.

      “Thanks.” Ava shrugged out of her coat.

      She was just about to help Sylvie with the tie on her favorite red wool hat when her daughter cried, “Darius! We’re here!” and took off down the hall toward the tall, impossibly handsome man at the other end.

      He wore a cream-colored sweater and black jeans, and even from the opposite end of the hallway, his eyes seemed bluer than usual. Damn him. Why did he have to be so good-looking? For a moment, she stared at him and he gazed back at her, and it was awful and wonderful, strange and exciting.

      Sylvie skidded to a stop in front of him and wriggled in place, suddenly shy. “Hi.”

      “Happy Thanksgiving, Sylvie. Love your hat.”

      “It’s red.” She pointed at the cluster of knit daisies over her left ear. “With flowers.”

      “And very pretty.”

      “Mommy ties it double for me so it won’t come undone.”

      “Ah.” Darius shot Ava a glance full of humor—and something else that made her knees go weak.

      “Would you please help me untie it?” Sylvie stretched her neck and pointed at the double-knotted bow.

      “Let’s see here...” He dropped to a crouch in front of her and went right to work.

      At the same time, the doorbell chimed and Clara turned to let in the next guest, her half sister Jody. Ava willed her pulse to slow the heck down and made herself stride over to where Dare knelt before her little girl.

      Those big hands with their long, clever fingers made short work of the knot. He pulled one end of the bow, and it fell open. “There you go.”

      Sylvie scooped off the hat, causing her caramel-colored hair to spark and crackle with static. She giggled, “I’m ’lectric!”

      “You sure are.” Dare’s low chuckle set Ava’s nerves humming.

      Sylvie stuck out her little hand and patted his rock-like shoulder. “Thank you very much.”

      “You’re welcome.” He rose as Annabelle Bravo, all plump cheeks, thick dark hair and big brown eyes, raced down from upstairs. With a quick wave at Ava, she reached the main floor and headed straight for her best friend. “Sylvie! Finally. Come on. Aunt Clara let me make a fort with blankets upstairs in a spare room. Kiera helped.” Kiera was Clara and Dalton’s toddler.

      Sylvie shed her coat and handed it and the hat to Ava. “Can I, Mom?”

      “Sure.” Annabelle already had Sylvie’s hand and was pulling her toward the stairs at a run. “Okay, you two,” Ava called after them. “No running in the house.”

      Annabelle slowed. “Sorry, Ava.” The two girls giggled together and proceeded up the stairs at a slower pace, leaving Ava alone at that end of the hall with the one man she didn’t want to be anywhere near at the moment.

      But then Clara and Jody, who had disappeared into the makeshift coatroom, emerged and came toward them.

      Ava thought of poor Nick Yancy, Jody’s friend. “Jody! How are you?”

      “Okay.” Jody didn’t look okay. Shadows rimmed her eyes, and her smile was forced.

      Clara gave her half sister’s arm a fond pat and went on into the great room, while Ava wrapped Jody in a hug and whispered, “My mom told me about Nick. I’m so very sorry.”

      Jody held on for an extra few seconds and admitted softly, “It’s awful. He was such a sweet guy. I still don’t really believe it...”

      Ava murmured a few more soft condolences. She added, “I heard the funeral’s Sunday afternoon.” Her mom had called her yesterday with the information. “My parents know Nick’s stepdad, but they’re out of town for the holiday. I’m going to try to put in an appearance Sunday, represent the family...”

      “That’s good of you, Ava. Nick and I had only been friends for a few months...” Jody’s voice trailed off as though she didn’t know quite what to say next.

      Who did in a situation like this?

      Ava took her by the shoulders and held her gaze. “If I can do anything. Anything.”

      “Thanks. You’re a sweetheart.” Jody put on a smile.

      Ava released her.

      Jody moved on to Darius, who greeted her with open arms and a fond, “Hey, little sister...”

      Ava saw her opportunity to escape him and grabbed it. She turned for the relative safety of the master suite—after all, she needed to stash the outerwear, didn’t she?

      In the bedroom, she added the two coats and Sylvie’s red hat to the growing pile on the king-size bed. And then, stalling a little to give Darius time to wander back to the great room, she popped into the bathroom to smooth her hair and make sure she didn’t have lipstick on her teeth.

      Her hair looked fine and her teeth were lipstick-free. But her eyes had a glazed sort of look and her face was flushed all the way down to the scoop neckline of her favorite cashmere sweater. Really, she needed to settle the heck down.

      “Chill,” she whispered softly to her wild-eyed reflection. “Deep breaths.” She took her own advice, breathing slowly in and out through her nose, reminding herself that a good man had died on Monday and so what if she’d said something ridiculous to Darius. “Get over it. Move on.”

      There


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