Madeline bit her lower lip and wondered how deep she was digging the hole.

“She knows you love her, Jonny. She doesn’t need you to prove that. She’s worried the wedding is going to turn into something she doesn’t want.”

“Did she say that?”

Madeline nodded.

“And ask you to keep me in line?”

“Not in those exact words, but yes.”

“Good to know.”

With that, he turned and walked away.

Madeline thought about going after him, but there wasn’t much else she could say. She’d told him the truth. What he did with it was up to him.

Which was the mature response. The less grown-up part of her pouted at the realization that there was no way Jonny was going to be her date now.

* * *

Jonny walked out of Paper Moon with no particular destination in mind. All he knew was he had to get away from the soft, caring worry he saw in Madeline’s blue eyes.

She felt bad for him. Him! He was Jonny Blaze. How was that possible? Only she’d been the one delivering the character assessment from his sister. An assessment Ginger hadn’t bothered to deliver herself.

He turned left onto Fifth Street, then walked up to Mickey Lane and turned right. The neighborhood was unfamiliar, but solidly residential. Good. He was less likely to run into anyone he knew here.

He looked at the houses lining the street. They were decorated for the holidays with everything from traditional snowmen and Santas to a cement lawn ornament dressed in a Christmas outfit.

Talk about a town that did it up right, he thought. Only they hadn’t been talking about the town. Madeline had been talking about him.

He wanted to protest that his sister should have come to him. That she didn’t need to be discussing his issues with anyone else. The problem was Ginger had tried many times and he’d refused to listen. Like when she’d turned eighteen and he’d taken her to Europe. Not that uncommon, only he’d arranged for private viewings in several museums and then had flown in three of her closest friends for a girls’ weekend in Paris. That might have been a little over the top. Or when he’d rented out the downtown Seattle Nordstrom store for her twenty-first birthday, giving her and her friends free run of the place with the ability to purchase anything they wanted.

While Ginger had appreciated the gesture, she’d patiently explained that a dinner out with him would have been enough. That she knew he loved her and he didn’t have to always be showing it. That he could simply tell her instead.

Only he couldn’t. He remembered the last time he’d told Kristen he loved her. She’d been fading fast and he hadn’t been willing to let her go.

“I love you. If you love me back, you won’t die.”

“It doesn’t work that way.” Kristen had smiled then. “I’ll love you for the rest of my life. I promise.”

A macabre joke—one someone facing death should be allowed. But it had cut him.

He remembered his last conversation with his dad. He and his father had talked about the usual stuff as his father was driving to work and Jonny was getting ready to go to classes at college. They’d ended things as they always had.

“I love you, Dad. I’ll call you over the weekend. Have a good day.”

“You, too, son.”

Two hours later, his father had dropped dead of a heart attack.

Saying you loved someone put everything at risk, he thought. He’d learned that lesson well. While intellectually he knew the words weren’t a death sentence, in his gut he wasn’t willing to take a chance. So he showed Ginger and sometimes that showing got out of hand. Was that so bad?

He came to a stop on Forest Highway and took a second to figure out where he was in relation to where he’d left his SUV, then he made a right and circled back toward town.

Maybe he should back off a little on the wedding, he thought. The cake had been too big and Ginger was clear on what she wanted. Madeline had a good handle on things. He would trust her, he told himself.

A small import pulled up next to him and the passenger window rolled down. He walked over and saw Mayor Marsha behind the wheel.

“Mr. Blaze,” she said cheerfully. “Just the man I was looking for. Do you have a moment?”

“Sure.”

“Excellent.”

She motioned for him to get in. He did and fastened his seat belt. She started driving.

“Every year we have a Christmas Eve performance called The Dance of the Winter King. It’s a ballet performed by students here in town. The story is very meaningful and it’s all very lovely, as you can imagine.”