Home for the Holidays by Rochelle Alers Page A

with Tracy and Layla, but she opted for the eight o’clock service to get a jump on all she had to accomplish in one day. After a lot of thought, she’d also decided to accept Mabel’s offer to go into partnership with her and Lester. She could hardly believe she was going to have her own specialty cake business in the adjoining shop.
    As promised, Collier came over every night to check on her. He made no attempt to initiate having sex, preferring instead to cuddle with her either in bed or on the daybed in the family room. They talked at length about the countries and cities in which they’d lived or visited, while discovering both were partial to music from the sixties, seventies, and eighties. Collier had insisted they share one dance before leaving, and while Iris knew her feelings for Collier were intensifying, it took Herculean strength for her not to beg him to spend the night.
    â€œAre you looking for someone, gorgeous?”
    Iris jumped as if she’d stuck her finger in an electrical outlet. Collier had come up behind her without making a sound. “You can’t sneak up on me like that.”
    Collier took her hand, tucking it into the bend of his elbow. “I’m sorry, sweetie ,” he apologized in falsetto.
    Iris couldn’t help but laugh although the situation wasn’t funny. If she’d had a weak heart there was no doubt she would’ve had an episode. However, Collier’s ability to mimic her and others was uncanny. “Very funny, Mr. Mynah Bird.”
    â€œCan mynah birds really mimic the human voice?”
    â€œYes, they can. I knew someone in Hawaii that had one, and I didn’t believe it until I heard it for myself.”
    She moved closer to Collier when she saw a group of rowdy boys coming in their direction, trading punches, and cursing one another.
    Collier eased her closer to the storefronts lining Main Street as the boys sauntered down the sidewalk as if they owned it, three abreast. “They look like trouble,” Iris said in a quiet tone.
    â€œThey’re probably kids from the mainland,” Collier replied. “If they’re looking for trouble, then they’ve come to the wrong place tonight. I saw Jeff and one of his deputies with two kids who looked like they were high on something. They couldn’t have come from here because everyone knows there’s zero tolerance for any type of substance abuse on Cavanaugh Island.”
    Iris shook her head. “If they get locked up, then somebody’s mama or daddy is going to be real pissed tonight.”
    â€œWord,” Collier drawled.
    It was a Friday night, and all or most of the stores were open later than normal for holiday shopping; the business district was teeming with people intent on making purchases and those who were more than content to browse.
    Two vehicles, with the capability of making snow, were parked on either side of the wide cobblestone street despite the NO PARKING signs. In less than twelve hours, Sanctuary Cove would resemble a winter wonderland landscape with sparkling Christmas lights and Hollywood-created fake snow. It’d been a while since Collier saw or felt snow, even of the fake variety, because it rarely snowed in the desert.
    â€œDo you think they’ll run out of tickets?” Iris asked when seeing the line outside the theater.
    â€œIt doesn’t matter. I stopped and bought two tickets earlier.”
    She smiled up at him. “I think I’m going to keep you.”
    Collier lifted his eyebrows. “Were you thinking of leaving me?”
    Iris fell silent. She didn’t want to remind Collier that he would be the one leaving her, not the other way around. “No.”
    He patted her hand. “Good.” Collier held open the door to the theater, handing their tickets to the usher. The aroma of freshly popped popcorn filled the lobby. “Do you want anything?”
    â€œI’ll have a small bag of