Christmas at the Graff

by Kaylie Newell

  Molly sat back and studied the other woman, looking thoughtful. “I think you’re my new favorite person. Donuts and compliments.”

  Molly’s fall from grace had been widely publicized. She’d found happiness and peace in Marietta, but the general public could still be less than kind.

  “I mean it,” Jemma said. “I loved watching you dive.”

  “You can still watch her dive if you stick around for summer,” EJ said. “She does a mean twist off the rocks at Miracle Lake. Draws quite the crowd. All the kids around here are planning on the 2020 Olympics, thanks to her.”

  “Oh, stop.” But Molly looked pleased. There was still some of that superstar deep down who craved approval. EJ and Chad knew it, and they had fun watching her come alive with a soft stroke of a phrase or well-timed word now and then.

  Chad put his hands in his pockets and rocked forward on his toes. “So, Jemma. We heard a wicked rumor that you’re helping with the tree this year.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You do know that EJ here gets a little competitive? He’s been known to stay up all hours of the night perfecting tinsel placement. We wouldn’t put it past him to threaten his competition with an early demise.”

  She laughed. “I’ll try to keep him in line. Or at least out of jail.”

  “Good girl.”

  “But we are going to stop by The Java Café before we cut the tree down Friday.” She gave EJ a knowing look. “To size up them up.”

  “Oh, God,” Chad said. “He’s got an accomplice.”

  “I think it’s the most fun,” Molly said, sitting back and looking wistful. “Have you ever spent Christmas in Marietta, Jemma?”

  “I haven’t. I’m planning on going home after the auction. I’m only here to help my dad for a while.”

  “Aww. Too bad. It’s absolutely magical around here.” She looked from Jemma to EJ, and back again. She was up to something. “I’m sure you know about the sleigh rides with hot chocolate?”

  Obvious longing crossed Jemma’s face. “Hot chocolate?”

  “And, of course, the ice-skating. That’s super fun.” She ran her finger along the arm of the chair innocently. “A perfect date outing. If a couple is so inclined.”

  Heat crept up EJ’s neck. God. He needed to get Jemma out of there before these two said anything else. They were like tween siblings, egging each other on.

  “Here, let me get those.” He took the box of donuts from Jemma’s hand, brushing her fingers in the process. All of a sudden, he wanted her alone. He didn’t feel like sharing her with Chad and Molly, or anyone else for that matter. He craved the warmth of that gaze lingering on him only.

  “Walk you to your car?”

  She nodded. “It was really nice meeting you guys.”

  They walked out of the clinic with Chad calling after them. “We accept donuts weekly!”

  Outside, the air was frigid, their breath crystalizing in puffy clouds. The sidewalk was slick, and EJ reached out to take Jemma’s elbow when she slipped a little.

  She pulled in a breath. “I might end up breaking something. Then I’ll be the one needing physical therapy.”

  “I’d fix you up.”

  He could smell her perfume. Something warm and musky. She looked up, her cheeks pink from the cold.

  “I have a feeling you’re very good at what you do.”

  He watched her, not trusting himself to say anything, but a dozen comments skipped across his mind.

  And maybe she could read it, because she glanced down, flustered. “I mean, you seem skilled. As a therapist.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Dad can’t say enough good things about you.”

  “Your dad’s just a nice guy.”

  “I guess.” She looked up again, jingling her keys in her hand. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.”

  She seemed to be choosing the words carefully. The bright morning sun shone off her hair, highlighting ribbons of bronze throughout. His gaze traveled down its length to where several strands curled seductively at the swell of her breasts underneath the jacket.

  “Did you know the woman he lived with?”

  She’d been here for several days, but it looked like there was still unfinished business between her and Joe. He wondered if she’d stick around long enough for him to make it right. He hoped she would.

  “I only know her name was Ruby and she ended up not being so nice to him.”

  Jemma frowned and hugged herself in the cold. “She must have been nice at some point. Nice enough for him to go with her.”

  EJ nodded, not wanting to say the wrong thing. “Maybe it didn’t have so much to do with Ruby as it had to do with other things.”

  “Like my mom.”

  “I didn’t say that. But I’m guessing there’s more to the story, Jemma. Why don’t you ask him?”

  She shrugged and looked toward the mountains where a fresh coat of powder waited.

  “Honestly?” she said.

  “Honestly.”

  “I’m afraid of the answer.”

  She was obviously hurting. And he knew what it felt like to be abandoned. It didn’t matter if adulthood eventually found them. It couldn’t erase the pain of childhood.

  He hunched his shoulders against a sudden icy breeze, squinting through the sunlight toward the lake. The pines in the parking lot rocked and swayed as if wanting some attention for themselves.

  “I know you are,” he said. “But an answer might be what’ll help you move forward. Sometimes I’d give anything for more information. Not a lot. Just enough to draw my own conclusions, you know?”

  She looked up curiously, but she didn’t ask why.

  And he was glad.

  Chapter Nine

  Jemma walked down the winding staircase of the Graff and looked toward the magnificent lobby. The Christmas trees were all lit. People were coming in from the cold, headed toward the bar for a drink.

  It was Friday afternoon, the day she and EJ had picked to cut down the tree. Mistletoe and Montana was less than two weeks away, and they had a ton to do between now and then. She’d called the shelter. The volunteers had been thrilled at her idea, suggesting Jemma come down and take pictures of the adoptable dogs and cats to use to make ornaments. The director, a bubbly woman named Shari, was going to donate collars and leashes for the trim, and Jemma needed to ask EJ about their color scheme. She wanted the most colorful tree at the dance—something people would stop to stare at. But she had to keep reminding herself this was EJ’s baby. She was just his helper.

  At the thought of that, she warmed. She stopped on the landing and leaned against the antique railing to look around again. He wasn’t there yet, but that was okay. She wanted to savor the moment a while longer. The feeling of waiting to be picked up by a gorgeous man and knowing they’d be spending the better part of the day together. Technically, it wasn’t a date, but it felt enough like one that she’d come back to the hotel to shower and pick something cute to wear after being with her dad all morning. She’d even gone a little heavier on the mascara and lip gloss than she usually did.

  Down at the front desk, Bob looked up and spotted her. She waved, and he motioned her down to come talk to him. Adjusting her periwinkle blue scarf over her white jacket, she made her way over.

  “Well, look at you,” he gushed. “What gives?”

  She smiled, embarrassed. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Not obvious, but you look stunning. I just assumed.”

  He wore a red sweater with a little snowman pin next to his name tag. Bob was all about the holidays—probably all the way down to his socks and boxers. The thought made Jemma want to give him a hug. Just being in his presence made her happy.

  “I’m helping EJ Corpa with Mountain Physical Therapy’s tree for the auction.”

  “Ah. You’re in good company with that one. He’s dragging you up to the woods to cut it down, right? I’m guessing no Christmas tree lot for him. Not
authentic enough.”

  “Right again.”

  “He still pissy about Java Café edging them out last year?”

  “I think there might be some...unexpressed feelings.”

  “The competition is stiff, girlfriend. But the auction raises tons of money for charity, so that’s always a proud moment. EJ’s one of the good ones, you know.”

  She felt herself flush. She must be putting out vibes where her Christmas-tree partner was concerned. Maybe she really did have too much mascara on. Or maybe it was the lip gloss. It had sparkles in it. Little glittery sparkles that must scream sexpot. She could hear Justine’s voice now. Where’s it going to stop? Sparkles today, sequined thong tomorrow.

  “What’s wrong?” Bob asked. “Am I on to something?”

  “Nothing at all.”

  “Mmmhmm. You single?”

  It was like talking to a long-lost bestie. She might as well answer now. She’d just end up spilling her guts eventually.

  “Yes.”

  “He’s single?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “Well, there you go. Maybe your little trip to Marietta will end up being more memorable than you thought it would.”

  She had no idea what to say to that, but couldn’t help grinning like an idiot.

  “I call ’em like I see ’em.” He looked over her shoulder and then gave her a wink. “Your ride is here.”

  Turning, she saw EJ leaning against the wall by the heavy wooden doors. He hadn’t seen her yet. He was wearing snow gear that included cargo pants that fit impressively well, boots, and a red jacket with a high collar that made him look like a winter Olympian. He was fantastically beautiful. She found herself worrying for a second about her galoshes, which had zero insulation, but decided she’d risk frostbite for this particular man.

  She turned back to Bob. “If I’m not back by ten, send search and rescue.”

  “Or a bottle of wine. You never know.”

  She gave him a look, and he waved his fingers at her. She definitely loved Bob. Maybe she’d have to invite him for a drink soon. Then her stomach sank when she realized she wasn’t going to be here much longer. God. She was starting to fall for the entire damn town, and all it had taken were a few Christmas trees, some strategically placed gingerbread cookies in the hotel lobby, and a smoking-hot snowboarder slash physical therapist with eyes the color an Alaskan glacier. Okay, that last one would’ve had most women dropping their long undies too, but still. She’d never planned on liking this place so much. She’d never planned to open her heart, even the slightest bit. To her dad or anyone else.

  She met EJ in the middle of the lobby, and everyone else in the hotel fell away at that moment. His gaze locked with hers, and it was more meaningful than it probably should’ve been. But what really got her attention was the way her body reacted to that gaze—weak knees, butterflies, racing heartbeat. The whole nine yards. She was in deep trouble here. Like snowbank deep. Unless he opened his mouth and said something horrible next, she was only going to fall deeper.

  “You look amazing,” he muttered as he got close. There was a shadow of a beard on his jaw, and he smelled like a hockey player fresh out of the locker room. Definitely deeper. She should’ve known he’d be dreamier than the last time she’d laid eyes on him. He had a way of doing that. Multiplying the hotness exponentially.

  “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

  He stopped a few inches away. Close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look into his face. God, he was tall. And broad shouldered. And hunky.

  Smiling, he let his gaze roam slowly down to her hips, and then back up again. He didn’t try to hide it. “Well, now that we’ve established we look good, are you ready to get your Christmas tree on?”

  “Let’s hit it. Are we still stopping by The Java Café?”

  “Does the pope wear a funny hat?”

  They walked over to the big double doors, and he opened one for her. The icy breeze caressed her face, making her shiver.

  “Oh my God, it’s cold.”

  He eyed her boots skeptically. “Are those gonna be warm enough?”

  “It was so dumb not to bring my snow boots from home. But I bought some good socks. I’m okay, as long as I don’t fall down a crevasse or something.”

  “Mountain vocabulary. I’m impressed.”

  She grinned.

  “But I don’t plan on letting you fall down anything,” he said.

  The thought of him protecting her from a crevasse, or anything else for that matter, was enough to melt the goose bumps and set fire to her lady bits.

  “The café’s only a few minutes from here. Want to walk, or are you too cold?”

  “I’d love to walk.”

  All of a sudden, Jemma was hyper aware of him. Of the quietness between them. It felt delicate in the chilly perfection of the afternoon, like an icicle that she could see through.

  He pointed to the flower shop across the street, a historic red brick building, typical of the structures in Marietta that dated back to before the turn of the century.

  “It’s just right on the other side of Sweet Pea Flowers,” he said.

  He took her elbow as she stepped off the curb, guiding her away from a patch of ice. By doing so, he brought her closer to his side. His solid warmth acted like a wall protecting her from the elements and anything else she might come across.

  His hand brushed hers as he looked both ways, and her fingers tingled with the need to touch him more. To feel his skin against hers. Lordy, this walk would be the end of her for sure. If she didn’t break her neck on a frozen puddle, she’d die of heart palpitations before they got there.

  A truck passed—a gray F150 with a Rudolf nose attached to the grill—and the driver honked at EJ. He waved back as they crossed the street.

  Even though it was freezing cold, people were out and about. Bundled up against the breeze, laughing and sipping coffees, the crowds walked past the decorative shop windows to peer inside at the holiday displays. From somewhere close, the smell of warm pastries filled her senses. Closing her eyes, she breathed it in. She must’ve made a sound because when she opened them again, he was watching her with amusement.

  “Smell that?”

  “I think I just gained ten pounds,” she said.

  “It’s the chocolate croissants. They’re fresh from the oven about now.”

  “Every time I turn around, there’s something to eat around here. It’s like my grandmother’s kitchen.”

  He nodded. “That’s a good way of putting it. When I first moved here, I got soft around the middle. Had to nip that in the bud. That’s why I go snowboarding every weekend and biking after work.”

  She looked at him skeptically.

  “What?”

  “I’m having a hard time picturing you soft around the middle.”

  His lips tilted. “So you picture me, then?”

  “I...” Her pulse skipped in her neck. And other places.

  “You don’t have to answer that.”

  She jammed her hands in her pockets and wondered how long it would be before he kissed her. Or maybe they’d just flirt for the next two weeks and that would be it. Maybe she was reading him wrong, or reading herself wrong, but she didn’t think so. But one thing she was absolutely certain about—everything she’d thought to be true about her personality was turning out to be anything but. Good girls who crunched numbers for a living didn’t find themselves wanting to straddle a snowmobile behind a naked physical therapist. Those weren’t fantasies she was used to entertaining, but entertaining them she was.

  EJ pointed to a cute little building with blue-striped awnings ahead. “There it is. Ready to size up the competition?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be. And maybe we’ll have to leave with a few of those croissants. Just to be sure we’ve covered our bases.”

  “Um, yes. We’re hiking into the wilds of Montana. It’d be stupid not to be prepared.”

  They slowed,
and he reached out to open the door for her.

  The café smelled heavenly. Cheerful Christmas music played in the background, and a flocked tree stood in the corner that was trimmed with paper coffee cups and winking, caramel-colored lights. She breathed deeply the warm, rich scent of baked goods and mochas, and her stomach growled.

  Next to the front counter hung a poster for this year’s Mistletoe and Montana, complete with the date, time, and a blue ribbon tacked next to it that said, 2016 First Place Tree!

  EJ rolled his eyes.

  “Well, if it isn’t EJ Corpa. Fancy seeing you here.” Jemma turned to see a pretty woman standing behind them wearing a red-checked apron. Her hands were planted on a set of rounded hips. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think the timing of your visit would suggest you were sniffing around for our tree idea.”

  Sighing dramatically, EJ turned. “No, ma’am. I wouldn’t think of it. I’m just here to introduce my lady friend to your croissants.”

  “Well, that’s good. That’s wonderful, because I know you wouldn’t be that sneaky.” She shifted her gaze to Jemma and smiled. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Elsie McGreggor. Run the place, for all intents and purposes.”

  Jemma reached out and shook her hand, which was small and plump. “Jemma Banks. Nice to meet you.”

  “Banks...Banks...” Elsie said thoughtfully. “Not one of Joe Banks’ daughters?”

  “I’m the youngest.”

  The other woman looked Jemma up and down as if admiring a classic car. “I’ve heard all about you girls,” she said. “Been hearing about y’all for years. Just can’t believe you’re here in the flesh.”

  Jemma warmed at that.

  “Now, you’re the accountant, right? And your sister’s the elementary school teacher?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Joe’s always going on about his kids. He’s so proud.”

  And there it was again. The hurt confusion that seemed to have dominated the last decade of Jemma’s life. Every time she got a letter with sweet fatherly sentiments scrolled across it. If he loved his girls so much, if he was so proud, why the hell did he walk away? It was a question that was getting harder and harder to push down. EJ was right. At some point, she had to ask, even though she was afraid of the answer.