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He’d meant it as a joke, but the instant her face fell, he knew he’d made a mistake.
“You don’t like Christmas carols?”
“Not particularly.”
She suddenly shrugged. “Then it’s up to me to change your mind.”
Declan frowned, irritation ripping through him like a scalpel blade. “Or you could find something more productive to occupy your time.”
Startled brown eyes blinked twice before they narrowed, her thick lashes nearly obscuring the chocolate depths. “I was only teasing. You don’t have to be rude.”
He should have apologized right away, but the way she’d said it reminded him of his mother. How she’d been so confident in getting her way, and how his dad bent over backwards to make her happy. To give her everything she wanted and yet it was never enough.
“Just keep the Merry Christmas crap to a minimum and we’ll get along fine.”
Clark knocked on his truck window, pulling him out of his thoughts, and Declan jerked the handle, opening the door to step out. Chris and Jace stood off to the side behind Clark, smiling.
“Hey, you all right?” Clark asked.
“Yeah, just spaced out. Good morning, Chris. Jace.”
“Hi,” Jace said.
“How’s it going, Declan?” Chris asked, the older man adjusting his ball cap.
“Can’t complain. Let me grab my stuff from the backseat, and we’ll get this place in shape.” He shut the driver’s door with a snap and opened the back door, Clark hovering behind him.
“Have you had a lot of handyman jobs in town?” Chris asked.
“Enough to keep me busy.” Declan picked up his toolbox from the backseat and a leather sack of materials. “It supplements the slow months at the store.”
“How’s that working for you?” Chris asked.
“Not bad.” Truth be told, he could have had plenty more jobs, but there weren’t enough hours in the day for the store, jobs, and spending time with his dad. When Liam Gallagher took a fall two years ago, Declan left behind everything he’d been working for to run the store while his dad recovered. When the doctor mentioned that Liam was showing early signs of Alzheimer’s, Declan’s whole world fell out from under him, and he’d decided to stay in Mistletoe. It had been a point of contention with his girlfriend at the time, who’d agreed to move in with him a few weeks before, and when he’d told her about his dad and that he’d have to stay in Idaho, she’d let him know within a day she’d found an apartment she could afford. Alone.
Not that being in a relationship had ever been high on his life-needs list, but it was what you did as an adult. He’d had a life planned including teaching art, finding someone he could stand to be with, and living out his life with few hiccups and heartaches.
Being back in Mistletoe wasn’t the life Declan imagined for himself, but he’d do what he needed to make his dad comfortable. Liam was still himself, just had moments of forgetfulness, but he’d stopped coming in to work after he’d called a long-time customer by the wrong name. Declan had tried to get him in to the counselor his doctor recommended, but his dad wouldn’t go. Declan wasn’t sure if it was denial or pride, but Liam spent his days either out in his shop building things or in his recliner watching sports.
Declan hadn’t had the heart to broach the subject of selling the hardware store. Even though Liam had supported Declan going away to art school, Declan knew deep down his dad wanted him here, keeping the Gallagher legacy going. Three generations had poured their blood, sweat, and tears into that store, and Declan wasn’t sure he had it in him to break the cycle of tradition.
“How’s your dad doing?” Chris asked.
Declan swallowed hard. Many people had been asking about his dad over the last few months since he’d stopped coming in to the store, but Declan couldn’t answer truthfully. In the years following his parents’ divorce, his dad had become an angry, bitter old man, and a lot of his former friends had stopped coming around. Telling them about his medical diagnosis would send his dad into a tirade about how it was none of their business and if they’d stayed in touch they’d know how he was doing. So it was easier to just say, “He’s enjoying retirement, sir.”
“Well, give him my best,” Chris said, nodding toward the flocking tent. “I’ll let you fellas get to it. Someone should be down at the tent running this place. Come on, Jace.”
When Chris turned to leave, Clark leaned over, lowering his voice. “Seriously, I know Christmas isn’t your bag, but I appreciate you coming out. I thought I was going to have to tackle Chris to keep him off that roof and I didn’t want to pull one of the other guys out of the rows to help me.”
“What are you fellas saying about me?” Chris called back to them. He’d only gone a few feet and must have heard Clark.
Clark’s cheeks were bright red. “Nothing.”
Declan jumped in to save his friend with a wave. “I was just saying that I don’t mind securing your Santa to the roof so you don’t have to.”
“You’re not insinuating I’m too old, are you, Declan?”
Declan bit back a smile. “No, sir. Just that you’ve paid your dues and should take advantage of the rest of us.”
