“Hawaii is beautiful, but Maine is magical,” Lucy said as she performed a pirouette.
An unexpected snowfall was the best thing to turn Lucy’s mood around. She loved snow almost as much as she adored the Christmas season itself. There was something about the white fluffy stuff that instantly took her back to the joys of childhood. Sledding. Tubing. Skating. Making a snowman in the backyard and drinking steaming mugs of hot cocoa. Growing up here in Mistletoe had been idyllic.
Lucy turned her face toward the heavens and twirled around as fat snowflakes began to drift down from the sky. For the moment, at least, she could rejoice in the simple pleasures of a New England winter and not dwell on Dante’s return. There would be plenty of time for that in the hours between darkness and dawn when she tossed and turned in her bed and battled thoughts about the man she had once adored like no other.
* * *
Dante West stood in the town square and looked around him with awe. He was finding it hard to wrap his head around the fact that his hometown was treating him to a full-on celebration. There had even been confetti and streamers. And there was a huge cake with his likeness on it. He felt like a conquering hero. When he’d left Mistletoe eight and a half years ago he’d never imagined this would ever happen.
Growing up he’d always been the mischievous kid who’d been up to his ears in trouble, from skipping school to go crabbing at Blackberry Beach or joyriding in his grandfather’s Buick before he had a license. No one back then would ever have predicted his triumphant return. Not even himself. He had to admit it felt really good to be here despite his reservations about coming home.
There were so many ghosts in this town, ones that threatened the peaceful existence he’d built for himself during his years in Los Angeles. But he knew in order to move forward he had to deal with the issues he’d been trying to bury for so many years. He needed closure.
He felt a huge grin overtake his face as he spotted familiar faces in the crowd. Laura Jean Samuels, his elementary school crush. Mrs. Scarborough, his third-grade teacher. She looked exactly the same, except her hair had turned completely white. Matt Delacroix, who’d been a fellow Boy Scout in his troop. From the looks of it, he was a father now. The little boy he cradled in his arms bore an uncanny resemblance to Matt.
Dante felt a pang of regret slice through him. Even though Dante knew he’d never even been close to tying the knot with anyone, he found himself wishing he was that type of guy—one who could have the white picket fence, a house full of kids, and an adoring wife. He’d strayed so far away from those ideals. His life had been focused on his acting career and nothing else for years.
From the moment the limousine had deposited him at the town square, Dante had been scanning the crowd in search of big brown doe eyes and a heart-shaped, tawny-colored face. He felt a stab of disappointment. Lucy was nowhere in sight. After the way things had ended between them, he was foolish to think she’d show up. She didn’t owe him a single thing.
From what he’d heard over the years, she was the head librarian at the Free Library of Mistletoe. He looked over at the ornate, colonial-style building, imagining Lucy sitting at a desk inside or digging through the stacks trying to locate a book. It wasn’t hard to imagine, although he hated the thought of her stuck in a building all day. Someone like Lucy needed to be out in the world spreading her special brand of sunshine and good cheer.
The town mayor, Wilhelmina “Billie” Finch, held up her hands and motioned for the crowd to settle down. “Good afternoon, everyone. Thanks for coming out today to give one of our own a rousing welcome.” She turned toward Dante and flashed him a pearly grin. “Or should I say welcome back? We are truly delighted by your return to Mistletoe and overjoyed that you’ve decided to pump some money into the local economy by making your next film here. In deep appreciation, we are extending to you a key to the town of Mistletoe in the hopes that you won’t be a stranger in the future.”
Dante grinned at Mayor Finch and nodded in her direction. “Thank you, Mayor, for welcoming me back with open arms. I can’t wait to start filming in my hometown and catch up with friends and family. It’s great to be home!”
The mayor patted him approvingly on the shoulder. “We’re happy to have you here, Dante. And now, without further ado, I’d like to introduce Mimi West, Dante’s mother, so she can present her son with the key to the town of Mistletoe, a place we all know and love.”
Dante felt a tightness in his chest at the sight of his mother standing offstage. He’d missed her terribly and seeing her in person caused his emotions to rise to the surface. She’d expressed such joy and pride upon finding out he was being honored in their hometown and that he would be back in Mistletoe to film his next movie. Having you back will be such a gift to our family. The words she’d spoken to him a few weeks ago washed over him. Family was important, and he intended to make his a priority.
He would bet his last dollar that his brother wouldn’t be in attendance today. Too much water had flowed under that particular bridge. His sisters, Melanie and Abbi, no longer lived in Maine, so he knew it wasn’t likely they’d flown home for his hero’s welcome. He would have to wait until Christmas to see both of them.
Suddenly, his mother was being ushered onto the makeshift stage. She walked toward him, her shoulders shaking with emotion, tears sliding down her face. Words couldn’t express what it meant to him to be in her presence again. He didn’t consider himself to be an emotional person, but tears welled up in his eyes at the sight of her. Her long, dark hair had been cut into a pixie style. With her sepia-colored skin and almond-shaped eyes, his mother was an attractive woman who looked years younger than her actual age. It was nice to see her looking so well after losing his father. For better or worse, they had been married for almost thirty years. High school sweethearts. Despite their issues, they’d loved each other deeply.
Dante stepped away from the microphone, not wanting their conversation to be broadcast to the crowd. Once his mother reached him, she threw herself against his chest, all five foot two inches of her. “Dante! Pinch me. I can’t believe you’re actually here. I’ve been praying and dreaming about this day for months.”
“Mama,” he said, choking out the single word. “It’s so good to see you.” The last time he’d seen his mother had been at his father’s funeral a little over a year ago. Two years ago he’d flown her to Los Angeles for a lengthy visit and they’d been able to spend precious moments together. That had been before his father’s leukemia diagnosis and quick decline. Being back in Mistletoe would provide them with quality time to hang out and reconnect.
“My son,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace that seemed to go on for an eternity.
When they finally separated, Dante reached out and wiped away the tears from his mother’s face. “You know I hate to see you cry,” he said, trying not to think about all the times he had seen her crying in her bedroom when he was a teenager, courtesy of his father’s ill moods and sharp tongue. John West had been a difficult man at times. Loving yet implacable.
“These are happy tears,” she said, pressing a kiss against his cheek. The mayor motioned them to come back toward the center of the stage. Once they reached Mayor Finch’s side, Mimi stepped up to the microphone. “Here it is, son. The key to the town of Mistletoe.” She held the key up high and then pressed it into his palm. The crowd roared with approval. The key felt solid and reassuring in his hand. Despite all his shiny awards and movie contracts, Dante had never felt a sense of validation from his hometown until this moment. His own father hadn’t ever wanted to give him accolades or acknowledge his success. The truth was, he’d never really thought it was possible to be honored in Mistletoe, not after the way he’d left.
It humbled him to realize that despite his mistakes, there was a chance at redemption. Truth be told, it was the main reason he had decided to film his next movie here in Mistletoe. He could have finagled deals to shoot his movie anywhere in the
world. At this point in his career Dante had major pull in the industry. He was box-office gold, and he’d paid his dues in the business. Although his agent hadn’t understood why he wanted to film his movie in “some backwater New England town,” Dante had insisted.
It was all part of his personal journey. Mistletoe was a huge chunk of him. He needed to do this. This film was deeply personal for him, and it had been years in the making. More than anything else he’d ever been a part of in the movie industry, this project spoke to his truest self. It would be like drawing back the curtains and revealing himself for all to see.
Coming back home during this most festive time of the year had been a choice, one he hoped would bring him closure, not just with his relationship with Troy and his father’s death, but with Lucy, the woman who still owned a large piece of his heart.
Chapter Two
Once Lucy and Stella settled themselves into a booth at the Starlight Diner, Lucy began to feel much better. Now she was no longer forced to witness the crowd that had gathered to welcome Dante to town or hear their cries of enthusiasm. That had been pure torture. Thank goodness for the diner and the lure of mocha chip ice cream.
She had to give it to Dean Granger, the owner of the establishment. He really knew how to bling the place out in keeping with the holiday season. Every single booth had a sprig of holly hanging above the table, while there were candy canes and white roses as centerpieces. Christmas music flowed from the jukebox—Nat King Cole’s soulful voice sang of chestnuts and open fires. The counter was adorned with tinsel and garlands. All of it made Lucy’s soul soar.
The smell of burgers and fries emanating from the diner’s kitchen caused Lucy’s stomach to grumble noisily. She hadn’t eaten since this morning when she’d grabbed a muffin and some granola. Because she loved her work so much, Lucy had a tendency to lose all sense of time and work straight through her lunch hour. Thanks to Dante’s return, Lucy had temporarily lost her appetite. Clearly, it had come back with a vengeance.
“Mmm,” Lucy said with a groan. “I think I’m going to order a lot more than ice cream. I have a sudden hankering for a bacon cheeseburger with the works.”
“That sounds great,” Stella said, practically drooling as she looked over the menu. “Knock yourself out. It’s my treat.”
“Thanks, Stella.” She looked across the table at her sister. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you. Whenever I’m down you manage to lift me up.”
“Thankfully you’ll never have to worry about that. We’re in this for life,” she said, reaching out and extending her pinky to her sister. Lucy linked her own pinky finger with Stella’s and grinned. “Till we’re old and gray and sitting in our rocking chairs.”
Lucy wiggled her eyebrows at Stella. “I don’t know about you, but I plan to dye my hair until I’m well into my nineties.”
Stella smiled knowingly at Lucy. “I can totally see that.”
Within minutes the girls had placed their order with their waitress, Bonnie. Two orders of bacon cheeseburgers and fries with Diet Cokes. Once their food arrived, Stella made Lucy clutch her stomach with laughter as she did spot-on impressions of various townsfolk. Being a schoolteacher provided Stella ample opportunity to study people in the Mistletoe community. By the time their plates were cleared away and their ice creams were brought over to the table, Lucy felt one hundred times better than when they’d walked through the door. The combination of her sweetheart of a sister and mocha chip ice cream served as an elixir for the soul. She was flying high on a sugar rush.
All of a sudden, Stella’s eyes bulged and her mouth hung open.
“What’s with you?” Lucy asked, taking a huge spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. She groaned and gripped her head. “Brain freeze.” She choked the words out as pain hit her forehead like a sledgehammer.
“Lucy, please don’t freak out.” What was Stella talking about? Hadn’t she ever had brain freeze? This was not a freak-out by any stretch of the imagination.
“What do you mean? I can’t help it. Didn’t you hear me? Brain freeze.” She placed her hand on the bridge of her nose and massaged it, praying the agonizing sensation would subside. She’d once heard about placing a penny on your forehead to cure brain freeze, but who had time to reach into their purse to find a penny? It felt as if her face had been submerged in ice cubes.
Stella shook her head. A pinched expression was etched on her face, and her gaze wandered to a point beyond Lucy. She couldn’t seem to look away from whatever was behind her.
“What are you looking at?” She felt a prickle at the back of her neck. Lucy glanced over her shoulder. Whoosh. Time seemed to stand still for a moment as she watched Dante standing at the entrance to the diner, surrounded by an entourage, including his mother and Mayor Finch. She quickly turned back around, hoping he wouldn’t spot her and Stella. She scrunched down in her seat and reached for her winter hat, jamming it onto her head.
“Please, please, please,” she said, repeating the words over and over.
“Stop fidgeting, Lucy. You’re just drawing more attention to yourself. You look like you’ve got red fire ants in your pants.”
“What do you want me to do? I feel like I’m about to break out into hives.” Lucy began scratching at the side of her face.
Stella gasped. “Oh my stars! He’s coming over here!”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Lucy hissed. “If you’re joking, Stella, it’s not very funny, and I will exact revenge. And it will involve spiders. Lots and lots of spiders.” Stella had a serious phobia regarding the leggy creatures.
Stella’s stunned expression spoke volumes. “I’m not kidding,” she said through clenched teeth. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”
“Hey, Lucy. I thought that was you sitting over here.”
Suddenly, Lucy felt goose bumps popping up on her arms. Even though Stella had warned her, the sound of Dante’s deep voice caused butterflies to flutter around in her belly.
Lucy swung her gaze up and away from her ice cream sundae. Gawking out of the library window at Dante hadn’t fully prepared her for his up-close-and-personal masculine appeal. Her chest tightened. It was no small wonder he was a bona fide movie star. He was Idris Elba and The Rock all morphed into one glorious human being. He was the type of man who could cause a woman to lose her train of thought just by looking in his direction. Being this close to him sent adrenaline racing through her veins.
At approximately six feet tall, his body was rugged and toned. She knew from having seen publicity photos of him that he was ripped to perfection underneath his shirt. With skin the color of burnished wood and soulful brown eyes, Dante was serious eye candy.
She sucked in a deep, fortifying breath and tried to speak past the huge lump in her throat. Embarrassingly, no words managed to come out. Lucy hoped she wasn’t drooling at the sight of him. Surely her sister would give her the high sign if she was.
“This was always your favorite booth. Some things never change,” he said, the corners of his mouth tilting upward into the same glorious smile that had graced dozens of magazine covers. His smile hit her squarely in her solar plexus.
“Dante. It’s been a long time.” Somehow she pushed the words out of her mouth without stammering. She deserved a gold star for being somewhat articulate.
“Eight and a half years to be exact,” he drawled.
Something about the way he said it made Lucy want to scream. Humph! He sounded mighty proud of it. It had been eight and a half years since he’d fled Mistletoe as if a pack of wild dogs had been chasing him. Eight and a half years since they’d spoken. Eight and a half years since he’d walked away from her and their hometown.
“Congratulations, Dante,” she murmured. “You’ve really done some great things since you left town.”
“Thanks for saying so. I’ve been pretty blessed,” he said with a nod. He turned toward her sister. “Stella. You haven’t changed a bit.”
“I’ll take that as
a compliment,” Stella said, “considering how much things do tend to change with time.”
Ding! Ding! Her sister was giving Dante a subtle warning about her. Lucy wasn’t the same soft touch she’d once been. If Dante pushed her buttons he would soon realize she’d changed in the years since he’d been gone. She was way tougher than the sweet-natured girl who’d rarely challenged him. His movie-star status didn’t intimidate her one bit.
Lucy turned her eyes toward her ice cream. It was so creamy and messy and gooey.
“Lucy. Don’t,” her sister said in a pleading voice. Her brown eyes were filled with caution.
How was it possible that Stella could read her mind? After a lifetime of togetherness and sharing bedrooms and secrets as kids, Stella knew where all the skeletons were buried. She knew Lucy like the back of her hand. The good, the bad, and the ugly. At the moment Lucy was struggling with the ugly.
All Lucy could see was Dante’s too-handsome-for-his-own-good face. And that annoying smirk!
Really? What exactly did he have to smirk about? He’d come back to town as if he hadn’t snuck out of it like a thief in the night. Pompous idiot!
Lucy imagined how good it would feel to dump her ice cream sundae all over Dante’s head. She would probably have to stand on the booth to do it, but it would be so gratifying. It would definitely give her a feeling of accomplishment. Perhaps then she wouldn’t have this tight little ball knotted up inside her chest at the very thought of him.
She felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she imagined the ice cream trickling down his face and chest. It would be a huge mess. For once he wouldn’t be so smug and perfect. Maybe then he would realize what a jerk he’d been to her.
“Lucy. You’re the town librarian. You have a reputation to uphold.” Stella’s voice cautioned her to be sensible. She now had two angels sitting on her shoulders—one good and one very bad.
Dante looked back and forth at the two sisters and frowned.
No Ordinary Christmas Page 2
