She bit her lip, tasted salt and realized she was crying. “So my choices are that I’m a chicken or that you’re an idiot? Isn’t there a none of the above?”

“There’s C. People make mistakes.”

She nodded vehemently, walking toward him. “I like C. I choose C. Dylan, I am truly sorry.”

He took a step forward, intercepting her and pulling her into his embrace. “Don’t ever lie to me again?”

“Lord, no. I’m terrible at it. I felt nauseous half the time. The other half,” she admitted shyly, “I was just giddy to be with you.”

That earned her a slow, thorough kiss. “Promise me one other thing?” he asked when he lifted his head.

Anything. She waited expectantly.

“If I get the coaching job and move to Mistletoe, don’t help me decorate. I beg you.”

She winced, remembering the gaudy accents she’d inflicted on his apartment.

“Where did you even find that butt-ugly throw rug? You didn’t have enough time to get it special ordered from Vegas.”

“The cupids?” In spite of herself, she grinned. “They were in this mega-discount bin of things that didn’t sell on Valentine’s Day.”

“I can see why.”

“I was so incensed when I heard that phone message, but it also seemed fitting,” she admitted. “Deep down, part of me had wondered why a guy like you would be with me, and I suddenly realized that maybe it was all to teach me a lesson. That you were just-”

“Hey.” He tipped her chin up with his index finger. “You’re a beautiful, successful woman. Don’t you think it’s time to put Klutzy Chloe to bed?”

She looked into the eyes of the man she loved, the man who had helped her see herself as beautiful and successful, then startled him by tugging his hand. “Yes, please.”

He chuckled, but there was more desire than amusement in his voice. “Lead the way.”

AS COACH BURTON had predicted, once Dylan stated his clear interest in coming to work for Mistletoe High, the school board members were quick to pass a vote through, approving him for conditional employment with stipulations that he’d get further certification and education within the next year. Dylan had turned in his resignation notice at Channel Six and had sold his condo in Atlanta almost immediately-the building had a waiting list of interested tenants.

Tonight, Dylan was celebrating his impending return to Mistletoe with the people who meant the most to him.

“I still dread going back to school,” Dylan complained to Chloe as they sat at the largest table in the Dixieland Diner.

“I promise to help you with your homework.” She lowered her voice to a wickedly sexy register. “The trick is finding the right incentive program for each student.”

“And you have some ideas about what might motivate me?” he teased.

“A few.” She glanced over his shoulder, and he knew he’d have to wait until later to hear more. They had invited his mom, her parents, Nick, Shane, Natalie and Coach B. to join them for dinner. It looked as if Natalie and his mother had arrived simultaneously.

Dylan was surprised to see Chloe’s expression turn wistful. “Everything okay?”

“Better than okay,” she assured him. “It’s just…I was thinking about someone I wish could have been here tonight.”

He’d seen that nostalgic expression before. “Aunt Jane?”

“Yeah. Sometimes I feel like she was my fairy godmother. If she hadn’t sent me that red dress, would I even have gone to the reunion? She would have loved you.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “I love you. Chloe.”

That brought a smile to her face. “I never get tired of hearing you say my name,” she admitted.

Whatever response he would have made tapered off as they greeted Nat and Barb and then Shane and the coach. But even as Dylan talked to his friends, Chloe’s words stayed at the back of his mind. Fairy godmother? A few months ago, he would have scoffed at that kind of fanciful notion. He’d been embittered by his shoulder injury and the loss of a career he loved and by the loss of his father. Even though they hadn’t been close, Michael’s death had cemented the fact that they’d never have a chance to repair their relationship. But now Dylan was too content to be bitter.

Natalie helped him find a small duplex to rent. Lilah and Tanner Waide had been living there while they waited for their house to be built and were now moving out. And for all his previous doubts about whether he’d make a good coach, Dylan was anxious to get started, to have the chance to live up to Coach Burton’s example and Chloe’s faith in him. The only time he’d ever felt life was a fairy tale was when he got called up to the majors, and that had been a short-lived euphoria. This, though-this felt solid and permanent.

He looked around the table at the faces of people he’d known all his life, people he loved. He knew they’d gorge themselves on chicken-fried steak and, later, key lime pie. They’d talk about ball and local events and laugh together, then he’d take Chloe home and make love to her until they fell asleep holding each other.

Dylan had never shared Chloe’s enthusiasm for books and had preferred sports biographies to fairy tales, but maybe she was onto something. He had to admit, this felt a hell of a lot like happily ever after.

Tanya Michaels