“Like the soccer match in World War One,” she smiled. She was referring to a soccer match that the two sides played on Christmas day with their fighting on hold. “That’s when the Allied—"

  “I know what you’re referring to.” He smiled, “The Christmas truce,” Baxter said. “A bit extreme, but I see where you’re going with that.” He turned so that his body was facing Lauren’s and held out his hand. “Truce?” he said. “A temporary truce,” he added and then held out his hand.

  Lauren pulled off her mitten and turned her body toward his. “A temporary truce,” she agreed and slipped her hand into his and the world disappeared around them. His hands were soft, like those of a man who indulged in manicures, but strong like he took those manicured hands and scaled mountains with them.

  “How do you know Charlotte?” Baxter asked.

  “Pardon?” Lauren leaned in. The band had started up again, and someone had found the volume button.

  Baxter shifted so to straddle the bench seat. He leaned in closer to Lauren, and she swore that the temperature surged two degrees from the heat of his body in her personal space. “Charlotte O’Hare,” Baxter pointed to the crowd watching the band. Logan and Charlotte were standing at the back, Logan’s arm draped over Charlotte’s shoulder, hers around his waist, while they swayed to the music. “How do you know her?”

  Baxter had leaned in so close that his lips brushed against her earlobe, and a shiver ran up her spine. Lauren squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the flutter of desire spark deep within her abdomen. She pulled away and brushed her hair behind her ear, letting her fingertips linger on the spot were his lips had touched her lobe. “Charlotte is my sister,” she said.

  “Sister?” Baxter said. Or rather shouted, over the electric guitar.

  Lauren nodded.

  “I can see it,” he acknowledged.

  “What?”

  “The resemblance. But the name?”

  “Charlotte changed hers to O’Hare years ago.” Lauren left it at that. She didn’t need to go into all of the sordid details about why Charlotte had completely changed her identity.

  Baxter raised his eyebrows but didn’t ask the reason why. Lauren respected his restraint, so she gave him a hint. “To distance herself from her past, from here.” Lauren lifted her cup and gestured to the scene around them.

  “I get that,” Baxter said.

  “So do I,” Lauren whispered.

  The whispering wasn’t necessary, the music was loud enough that almost everyone in the beer garden had given up talking and was either shouting or dancing. The band had just started into the opening notes of ACDC’s Highway to Hell and the crowd had gone wild.

  Lauren looked to Baxter, suddenly feeling the urge to confess, to tell him who she was; but shook her head, not here, not now. She had been hiding from her past all these years, maybe it was time to face it. Her past had literally come to life and was sitting in front of her. Facing her.

  For the first time in years, the tenseness in Lauren’s body let up a little. Her decision to face her secret released its hold from her body. Her legs relaxed and her knee met Baxter’s, but this time she didn’t recoil. He looked at her and held her gaze as his leg fell heavy against hers. This subtle connection sent a wave of warmth through Lauren’s body. As she sipped her drink, she pressed into him slightly harder, to test and see if the touch was accidental, and her breath hitched as he pressed back. This touch was no accident.

  “Baxter!”

  A waft of bourbon and smoke cut the air around them as Carrie reached between them, grasping for Baxter’s hand. “Come on,” she yelled, her back pressing Lauren away from Baxter. “Let’s dance.”

  “You’ll have to get in line,” Baxter said. He edged away from Carrie, not taking his eyes off Lauren.

  “What?” Carrie yelled.

  “This young lady asked first.” Baxter rested his hand on Lauren’s arm and the goosebumps that sprang up had nothing to do with the dropping temperatures. Baxter raised his eyebrows at her and mouthed, “Please.”

  Lauren hesitated, and Carrie took advantage, laying a proprietary hand on his shoulder. Lauren’s gut clenched, seeing those manicured claws on Baxter’s jacket. “I did ask first,” she smiled and took Baxter’s hand. “This is one of my favorite songs,” she lied.

  “Mine too,” Carrie folded her arms across her chest but stepped back to let Lauren and Baxter extricate themselves from the picnic table.

  “Next one then.” She heard Carrie shout as they wound their way through the sea of tables to the plywood dance floor in front of the stage.

  “Thank you,” Baxter shouted.

  Lauren heard, but yelled, “What?” jokingly and pointed to her ear. When Baxter laughed, Lauren saw the glint in his eye again. The bass reverberated in her chest and she felt deliciously alive. “Come on,” she shouted and pulled him by the hand into the sea of dancers. The majority were drunk, and the dancing was more a frenzy of arm flailing and scream-singing along with the band. Baxter raised his fingers into the devil horn symbol above his head and Lauren started singing along. She hadn’t heard the song for years, but somehow the lyrics had found their spot in her memory.

  Baxter took a wide step into what Lauren thought was a lunge. When he raised his hands into the telltale air guitar position she yelled, “You wouldn’t.” Baxter grinned and then wind-milled his arm, proceeding to play along with the band, fully committing to his act.

  “Nice air guitar,” she shouted.

  He stopped, dropped his imaginary instrument violently, and put his hands on his hips. “It’s an air bass, Lauren.” He managed to say it with a straight face for at least two seconds before they both broke out into a fit of laughter.

  “You’d better pick up your bass before someone steps on it.” Lauren rested one hand on his arm and pointed to the snow-covered dance floor.

  “You’re right.” He bent down and when he stood up, he thrust his arms at Lauren. “Your turn.”

  There was no way Lauren was going to air guitar or air bass. “I’m more of an air sax player,” she cocked her head and grinned at him, thankful that as far as she knew, ACDC didn’t have a saxophone player.

  He smiled at her and as the final notes of the raucous song rang out, he said, “Fair enough. But I expect to see your sax in action at some point tonight.”

  Lauren’s cheeks rushed red. Was that an innuendo? The crowd screamed and Lauren and Baxter joined in with the clapping and shouting. She leaned back into Baxter, “You, sir, are a fine air bass player.”

  “The finest,” he whispered back. They had been jostled close together by the crowd of dancers, and even though their bodies weren’t touching, she could feel the light brush of his jacket against hers as he breathed behind her.

  “We’re going to slow things down a bit now,” the lead singer said into the microphone.

  Oh shit. Lauren thought to herself. The drummer counted in slowly and they started playing an old country song. She turned and brushed past Baxter, her eyes set on the back of the beer garden and the safety of the picnic table.

  “Lauren,” Baxter’s hand was on her arm. “Dance with me?”

  “We shouldn’t…” she said. But she wanted to snuggle up against his wool coat, to feel his arms around her, for him to hold her the way he did when they danced in his room all those years ago.

  “Of course,” Baxter said. “I understand.” He gestured for Lauren to leave the dance floor ahead of him, Always the gentleman, Lauren thought to herself. She glanced through the crowd and her eyes settled on Carrie’s. Lauren turned on her heel and slammed into Baxter’s chest. She grabbed onto his glove, “Just one,” she whispered into his ear.

  He nodded and took her hand in his, leading her to the center of the dance floor. The atmosphere had completely changed. Older men in cowboy hats swayed with their wives as the lead singer’s honey tenor twanged. The rough crew had adjourned to their tables, leaving the rest of the dancers space to move. As Baxter turned and pulled Lauren in towards him, she felt the warmth of his hand as it rested on her back and he took her right hand in his left, waltz style, like the old cowboys.

  “I didn’t take you for a country fan,” she whispered into his ear.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Lauren.” He slowly led her around the dance floor, the music and the other two-steppers disappearing into a sea of colors around them. Lauren lost all sense of time, and she could feel every tense muscle in her body as Baxter led her around the dance floor. She was not only hyperaware of every breath that she took but every one that he took as well. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at his face. When the music stopped, so did Baxter, and Lauren didn’t know if she was still lost in her time-lapse world, but she swore that he held her body against his, her hand in his, for longer than was socially acceptable. She cleared her throat and stepped away. The familiar chords of The Beatles’ Yesterday rang out and without saying a word, Baxter pulled her back into him. This time she didn’t resist. He held her hand in his, but this time it was against his chest. Again, the crowd melted away, but this time, instead of turning into a mass of colors and movement, they just disappeared. It was just her and Baxter lightly rocking and swaying under the twinkling lights. Lauren closed her eyes and let her body respond to his. The trembling had disappeared from her hands, and the steam from his breath warmed her cheek. Her eyes snapped open when she felt a smatter of cold on her forehead, she looked up and saw snowflakes swirling down through the twinkling lights, some landing on her eyelashes. That’s when she let herself look at him. His eyes were closed, and he was humming lightly. She didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or snow globe magic, but she did something she had only done once before, and she listened to her heart. She rose up onto her tiptoes, the movement causing Baxter to open his eyes, so she let hers meet his before she brushed her lips along his jawbone, letting them linger, just lightly brushing his earlobe. To anyone watching, it would’ve looked like she was whispering in his ear, but she wasn’t saying a word. Then she let her lips do what they wanted to do, and she kissed the smooth spot between his jawbone and his earlobe. She felt his chest jerk with a sharp inhale as her lips met his skin. When she lowered her heels and let her eyes meet his, she noticed that, like hers, they were glistening. He tightened his grip on her waist and she let her cheek rest on his chest, not a word was exchanged, and for the rest of that song, Lauren melted into Baxter’s chest.

  When the music stopped, Lauren stepped back from the warmth of Baxter’s chest and blinked hard. What had she done? They shifted away from each other and clapped politely with the rest of the crowd.

  “Wait here,” Baxter whispered to her. “I’ll be right back.”

  Lauren watched as Baxter disappeared into the crowd ahead of her.

  “What was that?” a voice whispered from behind her. She took a deep breath and turned to face her sister.

  “I-I-I…” Lauren momentarily seemed to have lost the ability to form complete sentences. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “Looked awfully cozy to me,” Charlotte said. “Where did he go?”

  “I’m not sure.” Lauren scanned the crowd for any sign of Baxter’s hat.

  “Do you know what you’re doing?” Charlotte asked. Her eyes were wide as they searched Lauren’s.

  Lauren shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut as if she was trying to erase those moments with Baxter from her brain. “What AM I doing?” she said, more to herself than to Charlotte. “I have to go.”

  “Where are you going?” Charlotte shouted as Lauren pushed and stumbled her way off the dance floor. Her breaths started coming faster and the crowd seemed to be closing in on her. She needed to get out of there. She recognized the feeling; it was the same one she had had right before she fainted. She hurried out of the party until she found somewhere quiet, somewhere she could think. She slumped down on one of the swings in the kids’ play area. She took a deep breath in and then exhaled it slowly. Why did Baxter have this power over her?

  Dancing with him had taken her back in time. That’s exactly how it happened ten years ago. She was delivering extra towels and had expected to find an empty room, but instead found a handsome man playing acoustic guitar. She couldn’t quite remember how things had progressed, but he played for her, listened to music together, then they danced and she had kissed his jaw, just like she had only minutes before. Only ten years ago, he had kissed her back. Tonight, he seemed shocked and then ran away. She didn’t want to tell him the truth – that they had made a baby that night. Big fat tears rolled down her face as she realized she had feelings for Baxter. She didn’t know if they were old feelings that had been bottled up inside her, or if they were new and fresh. They were likely a combination of the two, but it didn’t matter. If she didn’t want to tell him about Tabitha, nothing like the magic of tonight could ever happen again.

  * * *

  Baxter touched the spot on his jaw where her lips had been. He hadn’t imagined it; she had definitely kissed him. He made his way through the crowd to where he had left Lauren standing, but in her place, he saw Charlotte.

  “Where’s Lauren?” he asked. He glanced around, his eyes searching the crowd for any sign of her puffy coat.

  “She ran off,” Charlotte said. “Where did you go?” she asked.

  “I was just…” Baxter had gone up to request a song, any song that featured a saxophone. “Shit. Where did she go?” Baxter stood on his toes, looking over the top of Charlotte’s head. “Did she go back to the table?”

  “Baxter,” she grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Don’t play stupid with me,” she whispered and pulled him out of the crowd. “She’s not just some small-town girl for you to have a little fun with again.”

  “Again?” Baxter snapped his head around to face Charlotte, her grip tightened on his arm. “How do you know…” He stared at Charlotte. How could Charlotte know what had happened? That could only mean one thing. That Lauren knew who he was. “She knows,” he whispered.

  Charlotte put her hands on her hips. “That you’re the Brock from nine, or ten years ago? Yeah, she knows.”

  “I have to find her.” Baxter couldn’t believe it. “Why didn’t she say anything?” His mind was racing, he needed to find Lauren, now more than ever.

  “Why didn’t you?” Charlotte folded her arms across her chest. “Lauren just figured it out, but I’m guessing you knew all along.”

  Baxter held onto Charlotte’s arm and led her out of the beer garden. “How could I not?” he whispered once they were far enough away from the noise. “I knew it was her the second I saw her.” The tough woman’s eyes softened. “I was going to tell her. I swear.” He wasn’t lying. Holding Lauren in his arms had felt like the most natural thing in the world. He wanted her there again, and if he was being truthful, he wanted her there forever.

  “Mmhmm.” Charlotte pursed her lips. “Sure you were.”

  “I didn’t think that she remembered me. And even if she did, the development…” his voice trailed off.

  “She remembered a tree planter named Brock. I’m guessing you look a little different than you did back then.” It was true. Even when Baxter saw pictures of himself from those days it felt like he was looking at a stranger. “I told you my real name the other day when you were driving your daughter to school.” The pieces were starting to fall into place.

  “Right,” Charlotte said. “But you two, even if you have a history. Do you really think it’s a good idea to be getting all cozy? It’s her job to stop your project. To ruin everything for you.”

  “You think I haven’t thought about all that?” Baxter said.

  “Well then, what are you doing?”

  I think I’m falling in love with your sister, is what he wanted to say. “Charlotte. Tell me where she went.”

  “She’s probably at the kids’ park. That’s where she used to go when she needed to think.”

  “Where is that?”

  “Promise me you won’t hurt her.”

  “I won’t hurt her,” Baxter said but wondered if he could keep that promise.

  “Over there, just past the ax-throwing stuff.” Charlotte pointed to the corner of the community center building.

  “Thanks.” Baxter jogged off.

  “Remember that promise,” Charlotte shouted. Baxter raised his hand in acknowledgment but didn’t turn. His boots crunched on freshly fallen snow and he was laser-focused on his mission, to find Lauren Bunkman and tell her that he had never forgotten her.

  * * *

  The swing set creaked and Lauren’s feet left long tracks in the snow as they dragged below her. She could hear the music from the dance but couldn’t bring herself to go back to say goodbye to her friends. She rested her cheek against the cold chain and tried to make sense of what was happening to her. Of all the men in the world, why was the one who made her heart race, the one who made her body tingle, the one that made her want to fall into his bed and arms forever, why was it him? What cruel world made the one man who ever meant anything to her, be the man sent to ruin her and her town.

  She heard footsteps approaching from behind and sighed, she knew that Charlotte would follow her.

  “Char, I just want to be alone,” she said. She kept her gaze on the piles of snow on the front of her boots.

  The throat that cleared behind Lauren was low and masculine. She gripped the chains and turned to see Baxter standing behind her. “I can go,” he stated, pointing in the direction of the party.

  “I thought you were my sister,” Lauren said.

  Baxter bridged the gap between them and took a seat on the swing next to her. “Lauren, I will leave you alone. I promise. There’s just, there’s something that I think we need to get out in the open.”