it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. It was her stupid fairy-tale-obsessed mind playing tricks on her.
She turned and aimed her shots at the snowman builders now. Grandpa had the littlest boy on his shoulders to loop a scarf around the snowman’s neck. Daisy shot it all. That was what she was here for.
When she turned around again, she expected the man to be gone. He was leaning against the tree, hands in his pockets, staring steadily at her.
Daisy raised her camera and pointed it. She zoomed in, and caught her breath.
Slowly Alex nodded at her.
But he didn’t move, didn’t come closer. Just leaned against the tree, as if he was waiting for a bus or something!
“Are your fingers freezing? Daisy? Daisy?”
She turned, realizing that Josie had been talking to her. “N-no. I’m fine. I—Fine.” She glanced back.
He was still there.
“I think we’ll call it quits if you’ve got enough,” Josie said. “The little ones and great-grandma are getting cold. I am, too,” she admitted, blowing on her hands. “But it’s been such fun. Will you come with us? We’re going to make cocoa for the kids and hot toddies for the grown-ups.”
The panicky desperate part of Daisy wanted to jump at the invitation. Whatever Alex was doing there, he was there on purpose. He had something to say. And Daisy was sure she didn’t want to hear it.
But if she didn’t hear it now, he’d find another time. And at least she wouldn’t have to worry about Charlie overhearing.
“Thanks,” she said to Josie. “But I’ll just go on home. I loved doing it, though. I’ll have the proofs for you by the end of the week.”
“Fantastic.” Josie gave her a hug. “You were brilliant. And we had a blast. We’ll remember it always.”
Daisy smiled wanly. She had a feeling she would, too.
With cheery goodbyes and fierce hugs from several small children and a couple of great-grandparents, Daisy began to pack up her gear while the Costellos headed back across the park.
She focused securing the lenses in her camera bag. She didn’t look around, ignored the sound of footsteps through the snow. But her heart was going like a jackhammer in her chest. She straightened just as a shadow fell across her.
“Daisy.” His voice was soft and gruff, surprisingly hesitant.
Steeling herself, she turned. The sight that met her eyes was a surprise, too. This wasn’t the smooth confident man she expected to see. This Alex’s jaw was stubbled with at least a day’s worth of beard. This Alex’s eyes were bloodshot and shadowed. As she stared, his jaw bunched and tightened. He ran the tip of his tongue between his lips, then pressed them together again.
“Alex.” She nodded carefully, determinedly giving nothing away, particularly encouragement. The last thing she needed was to fight this battle again.
For a long moment he didn’t speak, either, and Daisy wondered if she ought to just step around him, head home. Maybe he’d just been walking in the park, had happened on her by accident. God knew perverse things like that could happen.
“You were right,” he said abruptly. “What you said.”
Daisy blinked. What she’d said? What had she said? Uncertainly she shook her head.
“That I didn’t want to love. That I pushed people away.” He answered the question before she even had to ask. He said the words quickly, as if he needed to get past them. Then he said again more slowly, “I didn’t want to. Then.” Pale green eyes met hers.
Then? Which meant … what? Daisy felt herself tense, but didn’t move. She searched his gaze, tried to hear the words he never said.
Then he took a breath and said them. “I loved my brother,” he said, the words coming out on a harsh breath. “And I thought I killed him.”
“What?” She stared at him, aghast.
He shook his head. “We had a fight … over a car. A toy. I was eight,” he said harshly. “And I gave him a bloody nose. He bled and bled. They said he had leukemia. I thought …” He shook his head, anguished. “I wasn’t even nine,” he said. “I didn’t know.”
“Oh, Alex.” She just looked at him. She’d known about his brother. She hadn’t known this.
“He said I didn’t. But he just kept getting sicker. And … then he died.” Now she could hear him dragging the words out. “My parents were shell-shocked. Destroyed. They couldn’t help each other. They couldn’t even look at me.”
“It wasn’t your fault!”
“I know that now. But we don’t talk much in my family, not about …” He swallowed, then looked past her over her shoulder, staring into the distance, his eyes bright with unshed tears. Whatever he was seeing, Daisy was sure it wasn’t in Central Park.
He brought his gaze back to hers, his eyes filled with pain. “When I was ten years old I thought I’d killed my brother and ended our family.” His throat worked. “I loved all of them.”
And she had told him he didn’t love anyone.
“I’m sorry.” Her words came out as brokenly as his. She wanted to reach out, to touch his sleeve, to put her arms around him. She had no right. “I’m so sorry.”
He nodded almost imperceptibly. He took a breath and then another. “I put it away, shut it out of my mind, didn’t deal with it. I never talked to anyone about it—except you. Five years ago.”
Her eyes widened. “You never—?”
“No. I shut it all out.” There it was, the sharp hard edge. She could hear it. It was the way he always shut people out.
He bent his head. “But I couldn’t shut you out.” His voice was ragged. A faint smile touched his beautiful mouth.
“You certainly did,” Daisy reminded him. She remembered his words all too well.
Alex had the grace to grimace. “I tried,” he allowed. “Because you got under my skin. Made me feel things that scared the hell out of me.”
“What?” Daisy blinked, confused.
“I was … falling in love with you—even back then, that first night.” He pulled a hand out of his pocket and rubbed it against the back of his neck. “I was falling in love with you,” he repeated, wonderingly, as if he was amazed he could admit it not only to her but to himself. “And it scared me to death. When you started talking about it like it was a good thing—loving—all I could think was, ‘I’ve got to get out of here. I’ll destroy her, too.’” His tone was harsh, anguished. And when she looked close she could see his eyes glistening. He blinked rapidly, then gave a quick shake of his head. “So I did.” He swallowed. “Hell of a lot safer that way.”
Daisy digested that. Drew
