Home for the Holidays by Rochelle Alers

apartment over the summer in the spare bedroom when Tracy had the floors in the house replaced. Iris had taken a week’s vacation, and the three of them spent the time touring the Sea Islands visiting historic plantations, botanical gardens, and soaking up Gullah culture when a weaver taught them to weave sweetgrass baskets. It ended with everyone several pounds heavier and blissfully relaxed.
    Iris caught Tracy’s gaze, surreptitiously tapping her forefinger against her lips, indicating she would handle the situation. “I’m going to call my brother to find out if he’s made plans for Allie to hang out with her grandparents. If not, then you girls can have a sleepover.”
    Layla slid off her chair, looping her arms around Iris’s waist. “Thank you, Miss Iris.”
    Iris rubbed the girl’s back in a soothing, circular motion. “You’re welcome, baby.” Rounding the table, Iris hugged Tracy. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    Tracy pulled Iris away from the table. “You know my brother likes you,” she whispered in her ear.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” Iris said through clenched teeth, praying Collier hadn’t overheard. Other than exchanging an occasional glance, there was nothing in their body language to indicate they’d known each other before today.
    â€œI can just tell,” Tracy whispered. “Are you certain you don’t want me to come over tomorrow and help you?” she asked in an audible voice.
    â€œI’m very certain,” Iris reassured her. She planned to get up early, do a little light housekeeping, prepare side dishes, and set the table. Extending her hand, she smiled at Collier, her eyes photographing his lean, dark-skinned, incredibly handsome face. “It’s been a pleasure.” He took her hand in a gentle grip, thumb caressing her knuckles as he’d done when they shared the table at Happy Hour.
    â€œThe pleasure has been all mine.” Releasing her hand, Collier splayed his fingers at the small of her back. “I’ll walk you out.”
    Iris went still, her spine ramrod straight. “It’s okay. I’m just parked out front.”
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    Reluctantly Collier dropped his hand. Having her freeze under his touch made him wish he could turn back the clock where they could’ve met under a different set of circumstances. He knew without a shadow of a doubt they had a physical connection, and the more he saw her the more he wanted to see her. Collier knew if he’d been seated next to Iris during dinner he would’ve been tempted to concoct any excuse to touch her.
    â€œI have to go out anyway to bring my car around.”
    Collier waited for Iris to gather her tote before walking her out of the house, watching until her truck disappeared from view. A near full moon silvered the landscape as he strolled along the dead-end street to retrieve the rental; minutes later he maneuvered into the driveway, parking under the carport behind Tracy’s Chevy hybrid.
    He went back inside, closing and locking the doors. The sound of rattling pots and plates greeted him when he entered the kitchen. Tracy had changed out of her pantsuit and into a pair of pajama pants and an oversize tee. She’d also taken out her contact lenses and put on a pair of glasses, which reminded him of their mother. “Sit down, sis, and I’ll finish cleaning the kitchen.”
    Tracy dried her hands on a towel, then sat on a stool at the cooking island. “Thanks. You just have to put the pots in the dishwasher.”
    Collier stood at the sink rinsing pots and serving pieces. “I like what you’ve done with the house.” Tracy had added the half bath off the kitchen, modernized the kitchen with state-of-the-art appliances, updated the plumbing and electricity, installed ceiling fans in all of the rooms, and removed the worn carpeting and replaced it with gleaming oak floors. Even