A Little Bit of Christmas

by Juliana Stone

  “This is me and Mommy and Daddy and Brin.” She pointed to four stick people, and then to a cat. “This is Giselle, and that’s you and Chess. And that’s Poppy. She’s still looking for her prince.” The two other stick people were holding hands, and behind them stood a lone stick figure with a big smile.

  “That’s real nice, Tawny.”

  The little girl got back to coloring, and he took a seat at the counter while his sister whipped up an egg mixture and got busy making French toast.

  “Where’s the baby?”

  “She’s down right now, and Poppy is getting ready.”

  He appreciated that Blue didn’t mention Chess, because every time he thought of her, he pictured her alone in that damn motel room. Then he thought about Jerry and wondered if he’d stop harassing Chess now that Cash was gone. And that made him think about the asshole who’d hit her the night they’d met.

  “Are you mad, Uncle Cash?”

  He’d just finished eating and glanced over to Tawny. “No. This is what I look like when I’m thinking.”

  “What are you thinking about?”

  He felt Blue’s gaze on him, and Poppy’s too. He realized he needed to get the hell out of here because the little girl saw too much and he had no time to deal with any of it right now.

  He looked at Poppy. “You ready to go?”

  “I am,” she replied.

  The two of them said their goodbyes, and twenty minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot beside Bella & Hooch.

  “Thanks for the ride.” Poppy opened the door and smiled at him. “I appreciate it.” She slipped out of his truck and headed for her store, where, surprisingly, there were already some folks waiting to get in.

  Cash was just about to leave when he spotted the older couple and the dog from the night before. They were walking the path across from Poppy’s boutique, sipping on hot chocolate or coffee, and the woman giggled at whatever it was her husband said. They had to be eighty, at least, and the way they looked at each other, it was…

  They look the way I feel.

  Cash sat back in his seat, his gaze still on the couple. Was it possible to feel like that about a woman he’d known only a few days? Had it grown in the quiet moments between dusk and dawn? Had it expanded when he made her smile? When her pain vanished, even for a little bit?

  Shit.

  This was inconvenient. What the hell was he going to do?

  The couple passed within a few feet of his truck, and the gentleman glanced over at Cash. He had a thick white beard, and his hair was the same, long ends curling up beneath his knitted red hat. It was weird, but something about the man seemed familiar. His eyes…wait, did they actually twinkle? He winked at Cash before tucking his wife closer and whispering something to her.

  She nodded, and they continued on their way. Cash stared after them until they disappeared from sight. It was late, nearly noon, and he needed to get out of Dodge, so to speak. He glanced over to Poppy’s boutique just as the sun glinted off something in the window. He narrowed his eyes, hit the window button on his truck so it rolled back, and had a better look.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said.

  Before he knew what he was doing, Cash was out of the truck, striding toward Bella & Hooch as if his pants were on fire.

  “Cash!” Poppy didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “Did I forget something in your truck?”

  “No. How much for that?” he asked, pointing to the window.

  Poppy slowly smiled. “Let me get it for you and see.”

  Ten minutes later, he was on the road, a plain brown paper bag beside him filled with silver and gold tissue paper. He didn’t think about what he was doing; he just did. He pulled into the motel parking lot and took the spot in front of Chess’s room, same as he had the night before.

  He had nothing planned, of course, but her door was locked and there was no answer, so that kinda put a dent in whatever it was he was going to do. He glanced around, turned in a full circle. He had no cell phone number to call and no other way to get hold of her.

  Cash thought hard for a few seconds and then walked toward the office. He’d leave a message. Tell them to let her know he was still in town. As he reached for the door, he glanced toward the diner, and the fog cleared. Trumpets blared. His vision sharpened.

  Chess sat with Ted Williams, sipping a coffee while the old guy regaled her with one of his stories.

  Cash changed course and pushed into the diner. He ignored Joely, who said a big hello from behind the counter. He paid no attention to the older couple holding hands while they shared a piece of apple pie. And he sure as hell didn’t care that Steve was in the kitchen, cigarette dangling from his mouth as he plated food.

  He walked to Ted’s table, and when Chess looked up at him, he didn’t say a thing. He bent over the table, slid his hands onto either side of her face, tilted her chin slightly, and then kissed her like he’d never kissed a woman before. She tasted like vanilla and warmth and sugar. She kind of tasted like home.

  When he finally pulled away, she blinked furiously but couldn’t seem to speak. Cash got it—his throat was tight, and he needed a moment. He handed her the bag.

  “This is for you,” he said roughly. “Merry Christmas, Chess.”

  “I don’t understand.” Her voice was shaky.

  “Open it,” he said gently.

  Gingerly, she picked through the tissue paper to dig to the bottom of the bag. When she spied what sat inside, she stilled.

  “Oh, Cash,” she whispered, slowly reaching for it. She pushed the bag aside and set the snow globe on the table. It was the fancy kind that you could wind so the scene inside turned full circle. It was a man and a woman and a golden dog, playing in the snow.

  “It’s not Sleeping Beauty,” he said. “But this could be us.”

  She yanked her head up but remained silent.

  “Maybe.” Chess wasn’t making this easy.

  “If you want it to be.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said slowly.

  “Come with me to New York. We’ll have a long road trip to talk about all the stuff we don’t understand. About the hundreds of reasons this is probably a crazy thing to do. About the fact that I normally take the left side of the bed but I gave it up for you. Or that your smile is the only thing I want to see right now, so I need you to smile.”

  She did.

  “And then tell me you’ll come with me. Tell me you feel the same. That we were brought together for a reason and that maybe that reason is long-term.” He took a step back and held out his hand. “What do you say?”

  Silence stretched so long and thin, it felt like it could snap.

  “Oh my God, Chess, answer the man.” Joely stood a few feet away, her excited voice at least two decibels higher than normal.

  Ted Williams sat back in his chair and nodded. “Just look at her face,” he said. “She already did.”

  Chess Somers gave the old man a hug before doing the same to Joely and Steve, who’d heard the commotion and come out of the kitchen. She took her gift and held it close while Cash swallowed her other hand in his big one.

  “Are we really doing this?” she said to him as they walked into the cold fresh air.

  “Yes,” he said, enveloping her in his arms. “We are.”

  He helped her pack her things, and less than an hour later, they were on the highway headed to New York City and a future full of possibilities with no names to them. All because of a storm, an old man who looked like Santa Claus, and because sometimes love finds you when you’re not looking for it. And it doesn’t matter that the love is new or that it hasn’t been fully explored. What matters is that when it comes along, you pay attention.

  Cash grinned and glanced at the woman beside him.

  For once in his life, he’d listened.

  Chess glanced up suddenly. “What?” she asked with a smile.

  “I’m just thinking that if I have to give up the left side of the bed,
then you’re going to have to give me something in return.”

  “Is that so? What do you have in mind?’

  “I don’t know yet.” Cash winked. “I’ve got hours to think about it.”

  “Well, you let me know when you figure it out.”

  “Oh, I will.” He settled back as the truck ate up the miles. “You can count on that.”

  And much later, he did, many times, in fact, to both of their mutual pleasure. But the thing was, and this he kept to himself—Cash didn’t mind sleeping on the right side of the bed…

  As long as that bed had Chess in it.

  Afterword

  Thanks for spending Christmas in Crystal Lake! I hope you enjoyed Chess and Cash’s story, and trust me, you’ll be seeing more of them later on in the series!

  This town has come to mean a lot to me and I sure hope you’ll keep visiting us! Coming up next is LOVE AND OTHER THINGS. Beck Jacobs story will tug at your heartstrings.

  * * *

  Beck Jacobs makes a living restoring and fixing homes. The only thing he can’t fix is himself. A part of him died the night his fiancé was taken, and he’s accepted the fact he’ll live his life alone. What he doesn’t count on is Sidney Barrett, a woman more broken than he is. Surprised at the sparks between them, Beck has to decide whether he stokes those flames and lets them spread, or does he step away and let them burn to ash.

  * * *

  Sid Barrett seems to have it all. Famous for being famous, she’s carved out a life for herself and made a fortune with her lifestyle brand. Burnt out, she escapes to Crystal Lake, her plan to relax and recharge the batteries. But local contractor Beck Jacobs, puts a wrench in that plan. The thought of embarking on an affair with a man like Beck scares her. When your heart has already been shattered, can it break even more?

  To read the bonus first chapter and find out how to pre order your copy page through!

  Bonus Chapter Love And Other Things

  Chapter one

  Beck Jacobs was not a cat guy. In thirty-five years of living he couldn’t recall having any kind of moment with a cat. He’d always been team canine, and if his life wasn’t so busy he’d have one of his own. And not one of those small yappy things either. He’d take a shepherd like the one his pal Charlie owned, or the golden retriever, Taser, that lived next door. That animal knew when his owner needed a beer and could open the fridge and get one on his own. As far as Beck was concerned, dogs were smarter than most humans he knew.

  He thought about that as he got down onto his back and shimmied his way underneath his truck, because dogs didn’t do stupid things like hide inside the mechanics of an F150.

  The ground beneath him was snow covered and it only took a few moments for the cold to seep through the red and black plaid flannel shirt he’d pulled on over his jeans. His hair was still damp from the shower and icing up, and he’d ran out so fast he’d not bothered to button his shirt or grab a coat. With no socks in his hastily pulled on boots, it wouldn’t take long before his toes were stubs of ice.

  Five minutes ago, his morning had been stellar. He’d been up early for a Sunday because he had plans to finish the trim work in the kitchen on his current remodel, a small bungalow on a ravine lot in town, and was expected at his brother’s place for dinner after a game of shinny with the guys. He downed two coffees and read the weekend paper (no online news for him) before the sun came up and then he’d gone for a run. After a quick shower, he’d pressed the remote start on his key fob to warm up the truck while he got dressed, because damn, it was cold outside. Weather in Crystal Lake in March was iffy, and the last few days it was a balmy thirty degrees.

  He’d taken exactly two steps away from the front door when he spied a small, fluffy orange tail dangling from under the front of his truck. And now here he was, staring up at engine parts and wheel wells, looking for the little bastard.

  “Where are you?” he muttered, squinting upward in the direction of a faint meow, though he couldn’t see shit. He should have grabbed a flashlight, which was a good idea, and he rolled back out from underneath the truck and rummaged through the tool box in the back of it. When he had the flashlight in hand, he got into position again, and after a few moments spotted two small, green eyes staring down at him.

  Beck spent the next five minutes trying to cajole the little guy from his perch but it was a no go. He angled his head for a look at his watch and swore. He was late.

  “Come on you little shit,” he said under his breath as he reached his hand up, only to be rewarded by a sharp claw and a hiss.

  “Excuse me. Is this a bad time?”

  The voice came from nowhere and startled Beck. His body jerked, he slammed his head against metal and swore a blue streak, though he didn’t take his eyes off the kitten. He’d been so damn close.

  “Are you Mr. Jacobs?”

  “Hold on,” he all but growled, wincing as pain flared along his forehead.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you I’m just—“

  “Does it look like I’m in the position to have a conversation?” Something dripped into his eye, most likely blood, and if looks could kill, the woman, whoever the heck she was, would be a puddle of goop in the middle of his driveway.

  “You don’t need to be rude.”

  “Lady, I don’t know who you are and I sure as hell can’t see you, but I’m going to assume you have two eyes in your head. I’ve got a bit of a situation here.”

  This damn cat would be the end of him.

  “By all means, take care of your situation first,” the voice replied, heavy with sarcasm. Beck scowled. He’d been kind of a dick, but Jesus, he was cold, pissed off, still wet from the shower, and the damn cat was playing games.

  Beck glared up at the puffball, which had crawled further up between the wheel well and the engine block. “Come on you little bastard,” he muttered, reaching up as far as he could, shaking his head when he was rewarded with a hiss and another swipe of a tiny paw.

  “Do you need help?” There was that damn voice again.

  “No.” Who the hell was this woman?

  He mentally willed the kitten to drop into his outstretched palm and when that didn’t happen, tried talking to it the way Charlie talked to his kid, which basically sounded like gibberish. It didn’t work and those green eyes did nothing but stare down at him. Taunting him with the odd soft meow. And now his day, which had started out so promising, was shot to hell and he’d be lucky to get to any of the trim done at the remodel.

  He thought of calling his brother Nate and asking to borrow his truck since he couldn’t drive off with the kitten stuck inside of his. But then he thought of the cold and how small the little guy looked and he didn’t want it to freeze to death. Lord knows Nate’s lady, Molly, the local vet would hand him his ass if anything happened to the kitten.

  “Come on,” he said softly, wiggling his fingers a bit. The kitten leaned forward and sniffed around the edge of his fingernails, but when Beck leaned closer, the little guy retreated. “You’re going to freeze to death, buddy.”

  “Hello,” said the voice, and he paused. “What’s up in there?”

  This woman wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Beck sighed and pushed his way out from underneath the truck. “A kitten.” He glanced up, but the sun was behind whoever stood a few inches from him and he got to his feet. Her features came into focus as he moved a bit and his eyes got used to the brightness.

  Creamy skin, high cheekbones and a full mouth. Long dark hair and darker eyes that looked him up and down without giving anything away. Beck had no idea who she was, but there was no doubt she was a looker.

  "Oh my God, are you all right?" She pointed to his head, which throbbed.

  “I'll be fine. Who are you exactly?” he asked, rubbing his hands together to keep them warm. He took the edge of his shirt and swiped at the blood that dripped from the gash on his forehead.

  She glanced up and for a moment looked as if she didn’t know what to say. Then she
cleared her throat. “I’m Sid Bennett. I’m renting a place on the lake and was told to pick up the key from Nate’s brother.” She paused. “Is that you?”

  He slowly nodded. Shit. That was today? Beck had bought the stone cottage last year with the notion of flipping it, but once the project was done he’d decided to keep the place and use it as a rental property. It was his greatest flaw, his inability to get rid of things. In the last five years, he’d flipped six or seven homes and managed to make a very good living doing it. But when a man puts his heart and soul and sweat into a project, he leaves a piece of himself behind when he walks away from it.

  Beck had a hard time walking away.

  He focused on the woman, Sid, and his eyebrow shot up. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.” That last conversation with Nate was coming back to him.

  “I was able to get away earlier than I expected to, and Nate said it wouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Did he now.” A head’s up would have been nice.

  “Is it a problem?”

  “No.” He sighed and nodded toward the truck. A sharp wail, like the little kitten’s lungs were being squeezed out of him, ripped through the quiet. It damn near made the hair on the back of Beck’s neck stand on end. God, he didn’t have time for this. He swore under his breath. What the hell was he going to do?”

  “Do you want me to try?”

  He looked her over real good. The woman was dressed in a white wool coat that fell to just above the knee. Her leather boots were a pale tan color, and the emerald scarf around her neck was silk. Beck might not know much, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know the coat alone cost more than all the clothes hanging in his closet. She looked like a city girl—if not mistaken, west coast—and he searched his mind for more information. But either Nate hadn’t elaborated when he first approached Beck about the rental, or more likely, Beck hadn’t paid attention.