Christmas in Kentbury

by Burgoa, Claudia

  Christmas in Kentbury

  Claudia Burgoa

  Copyright © 2018 by Claudia Burgoa

  Cover by: Andie B

  Edited by: Paulina Burgoa

  Marla Esposito

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic, photocopying, mechanical or otherwise, without express permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, brands, media, places, storylines and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, brands, and-or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, of which have been used without permission. The use of these trademarks is not authorized with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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  www.clauidayburgoa.com

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Also By Claudia Burgoa

  Prologue

  1. Knightly

  2. Knightly

  3. Heath

  4. Heath

  5. Knightly

  6. Knightly

  7. Heath

  8. Heath

  9. Heath

  10. Heath

  11. Knightly

  12. Knightly

  13. Heath

  14. Knightly

  15. Heath

  16. Knightly

  17. Knightly

  18. Knightly

  19. Knightly

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader,

  Excerpts

  I. Found

  1. Scott

  Two

  II. Undefeated

  2. Porter

  Two

  Acknowledgments

  Also By Claudia Burgoa

  Also By Claudia Burgoa

  Standalones

  My One Despair

  Knight of Wands

  My One Regret

  Found

  Fervent

  Flawed

  Until I Fall

  Finding My Reason

  Chaotic Love Duet

  Begin with You

  Back to You

  Unexpected Series

  Uncharted

  Uncut

  Undefeated

  Unlike Any Other

  Decker The Halls

  Dedicated to My Chicas, thank you for your amazing support, and for helping me create Knightly and Heath’s story. This one is for you xoxo

  Prologue

  Heath

  Eight years ago

  I hate surprises almost as much as I hate Sunday brunch with my parents. My family and I don’t get along. It’s a cliché, but we’re like water and oil. I became everything they hate and I hate everything they represent. My parents are judgmental. During my late teens and up until a few months ago, I fucked around—a lot—in every sense.

  I went to MIT, but during my sophomore year I lost my scholarship. The dean called me irresponsible. My parents wrote me off as a failure, until I came back to Kentbury to take over my uncle’s car repair shop after he died. I try to keep myself out of trouble and off the town’s radar. I steer away from the women in town. But I do have fun with the tourists who stay at the lodge. It’s simple. They’re here for a week or a weekend. Then they’re gone for good.

  “Looks like I ran out of luck.” I sigh and look down.

  In the bouncy chair lies Cassie, my one-month-old baby. The fuzz of black hair is covered by a pink hat. Her arms aloft as if dreaming of cuddling her mother. I slide my pinky into her open hand and watch as her fingers curl around it. I feel her soft breath on the back of my hand. Already the tension is melting away as I watch my sweet little girl sleep in peace. She’s so innocent, she doesn’t know that our lives have been forever changed.

  “Maybe I just got lucky,” I whisper close to her ear. “You and I are going to make it work. I’ll make you proud little one.”

  There’s a light knock on the door.

  “That must be Knightly coming to save the day,” I whisper to Cassie and kiss her tiny hand before I open it.

  There’s so much I could tell her about my best friend, but there’s not enough time. I only tell Cassie what’s important. “She’s going to become your favorite person. We call her Lee for short.”

  When I swing the door open, I finally relax. Lee’s here.

  Her big brown eyes narrow locking her gaze at me. “I need a big explanation,” she says handing me the shopping bags she carries with her.

  “Hello, Lee,” I greet her and stare at all the bags she brought as she unzips her blue parka.

  “I got everything that you asked for,” she says. “Bishop is bringing the big items. What do you need that for?”

  Her voice is neutral, but I know her well. She’s easy to read. The expression on her face matches her mood. I know when she’s excited about something. I can tell when she’s tired or cranky. Or, like right now, when she’s upset that I’m keeping her in the dark. As she takes off all her winter gear and sets her snow boots on the plastic tray, I close the door avoiding the sight of her body.

  I like to think of Lee Harris as my best friend. One of the boys. She’s the kid who I hung out with since she could walk. I endlessly practice not noticing her sweet curves or the way her long, dark, curly hair cascades over her shoulders once she takes off her hat. I’m a shitty person and can’t do relationships. I’d never do anything to jeopardize my relationship with Lee. Ever.

  I tilt my head toward the living room. “Follow me.”

  “Oh my God, did Santa bring me a baby?” She claps once and takes out the tube of hand sanitizer that she always carries with her.

  Without asking, she snaps the belt of the bouncy chair open and takes Cassie into her arms.

  “Hey, beautiful, welcome to Kentbury. You’re going to love this place.”

  Cassie snuggles closer to Lee who looks beautiful holding my baby. I swallow hard and remind myself that she’s a friend who deserves a lot more than a guy who sucks at life.

  “You’re not going to ask anything?”

  “The mom came to the lodge earlier, asking for you.” She sweeps my body with her gaze. “Tall, dark hair, light blue eyes and was friends with the lodge’s owner.” Lee rolls her eyes and sighs.

  “You and Kingston need to stop sleeping around or …” Lee touches her mouth lightly with the tips of her fingers. “Oops, it happened.”

  “You could have warned me she was here.” I grit my teeth.

  “I could have.” She shrugs. “Maybe next time.”

  I glare at her. She’s not funny but I don’t have the energy to deal with her banter. Though, maybe she doesn’t have much energy either because she’s not as witty as usual.

  “How are you handling the news?” she asks with a serious tone though her gaze remains on Cassie.

  “I’m dealing, I guess.” I close my eyes briefly taking a deep breath. “Can you picture me as a father?”

  I gesture to myself, showing her the hot mess that I am. Then, point to the apartment I live in which is above the car shop.

  “I’m a fucked-up guy who can’t finish anything. I can’t even get along with my parents. What am I supposed to do with a baby?”

  “Love her,” she answers. “You should give yourself some credit, Heath. She has the best dad in the worl
d, and you two have me and my family.”

  I smile at her and say the obvious, “I can always count on you.”

  Lee studies Cassie. She smiles at her, but her face looks a little saddened. Her brown eyes are slightly red and watery. Was she crying? I’m sure it’s nothing. Later, when I’m not busy with my baby, I’ll ask her what’s wrong. In the meantime, I have to learn how to be a dad.

  Maybe I can find a book on how to be a father online. It worked with the car shop, and so far, I’ve managed it well enough.

  One

  Knightly

  Present Day

  “Did someone check-in last night?” Marcy asks as we peer through the crack in the door, staring at the unconscious body splayed over the Egyptian cotton comforter.

  I look at her with a questioning gaze. “No, this room should be empty.”

  “Well, tell it to that guy’s ass,” she says.

  Some say crisis is my middle name. Actually, it’s Rose. But if someone is in a crisis, I’m the go-to girl to solve most of the problems. I live in a small town where everyone knows … well, everyone. We don’t lock our front doors and that includes the main door of the Bed & Breakfast. For starters, it’s a hotel so we have to keep the doors open. Also, no one trespasses in Kentbury.

  “We should call the sheriff or maybe your brothers,” Marcy, the housekeeper suggests.

  Calling the authorities will start a rumor and before I know it, there’ll be a crowd outside my business. I don’t have time to deal with that aftermath. My brothers never show up when I need them, so I’m not going to bother with calling them.

  “Heath’s on his way,” I say, holding onto the wrench that I found in the garage on the way here with both hands.

  When I fully open the door to the Royal room, I see the intruder, just like Marcy described him.

  Clothes scattered carelessly around the room. Who is he? A serial killer, a stranded traveler or just a drunk who decided to crash in my B&B to avoid an angry wife.

  My shoulders tense, and I hold my breath. Maybe I should call the police. Terror surges through my body, but I relax when I feel a big hand squeezing my shoulder.

  “It’s okay,” Heath, my best friend, whispers suddenly behind me.

  “Is it?” I huff, upset at myself for having such an overactive imagination.

  “You had a one-night stand and you want me to kick him out?” His light blue eyes flicker with humor.

  “Ah, he thinks he’s funny.” I groan as my eyes sweep over his tall, muscular figure.

  People call me to solve their crises and I call him to solve mine—not the sheriff who happens to be my cousin or my brothers who never respond on time.

  Heath Miller and I have known each other since before I could walk. Rumor has it that our mothers were best friends since they were children. I wouldn’t know, mine died shortly after I was born. He’s my brother’s best friend as well as mine. Though, sometimes, like right now, he can be a little obtuse. And if I don’t stop him, he’ll crack a few more jokes before he actually does something about the intruder.

  “Hey, don’t shoot me, Lee. I’m just trying to understand what’s the big emergency,” he says. “I take it he’s not a guest. So who is he?”

  “We have no idea who he is. Marcy came to make sure the room is ready because we have guests coming in later today. She found him like that.”

  I scrunch my nose and stare at the bed. The guy is lying down on his stomach. His arms set above his dark brown hair.

  Heath frowns, taking the wrench away from me. “How many times have I told you that these are tools, not weapons?”

  I refuse to explain to him how the wrench could do some serious damage. Heath always manages to make me edgy. As frustration boils in my belly, I focus on his industrial boots and hold my breath trying to avoid his intoxicating scent. It’s that woodsy aftershave he loves so much and traces of engine oil. It’s so him. I wish I weren’t so attracted to this man. Briefly squeezing my eyes shut, I gather all my strength to pretend he’s not affecting me. That my gut isn’t clenching because my ovaries are about to explode.

  There’s a saying that practice makes perfect. I keep practicing and yet; it gets harder to feign that I’m not in love with Heath Miller. Eighteen years faking that I’m immune to the wide-set jaw, strong cheekbones, dark brows, and full lips can’t go to waste.

  Do I care about the way his white T-shirt stretches across his chest?

  Nope. I don’t care about his taut body. I refuse to acknowledge any emotional or physical attraction to this man. Never mind that every time his light blue eyes focus on me, my heart flutters fast inside my chest.

  “Hmm,” he says, as he enters the room and I follow him with my eyes. “Bring a bucket filled with cold water and ice.”

  “Why would I do that?” I sneer. “It’ll ruin the bed.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to see Bishop cry like a little girl?” He pokes the guy with the wrench.

  “Wake up, Harris.” Heath’s rough voice booms around the room. “Why are you here?”

  “Ew, Hops?” I turn around, disgusted by the site of my brother’s naked body.

  Perfect, just great. I just saw my brother’s bare ass and if this is any indication, he must’ve been kicked out of his place.

  “Five more minutes, babe,” Bishop grumbles.

  “Handle your friend,” I say to Heath as I walk away. “I need this room, now. We have paying guests arriving soon.”

  “You owe me, Lee,” Heath calls after me.

  “I don’t owe you shit,” I mumble but I’m sure he doesn’t hear me since I’m almost at the bottom of the stairs.

  “You said a bad word,” Cassie, who sits on the foyer couch chides me.

  “Clean those ears,” I say playfully. “Your hearing is faulty.”

  “Ha, I heard you all right. You said, shit,” she repeats, giving me a mischievous smile, so much like her father’s.

  “What have we told you? That’s not a ladylike word, Cassandra,” Heath reprimands his daughter.

  “I just repeated what Lee said, Daddy,” Cassie tattletales on me.

  “I didn’t know you brought her along.” Or I would have watched my fucking language.

  “It’s Saturday and I can’t stay at home alone.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m not old enough. He’s going to have me do homework in his office while he works on a car.”

  “You can always hang out with me,” I suggest.

  “You’re such a bad influence, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Heath jokes.

  “She doesn’t say shit much, only mouths fuck a lot,” Cassie says.

  I glare at her. “I thought we were friends.”

  “He says bad words too. You should make him put a hundred dollars in the swear jar every week,” she accuses her dad and I’m pretty sure she’s having a blast with us.

  “We need to talk.” Heath’s voice is a little more stern than usual.

  I can’t help but laugh when I realized he’s biting a smirk.

  “Oh my,” I say, clutching my necklace. “You’re breaking up with me? I thought we had a good thing going on between us. Was it my scones? I thought you loved maple scones.”

  “Do you have any?” He gives me a boyish smile.

  “Nope, today we have cranberry scones. I can make you some coffee and you can tell dear Knightly what’s bothering you.”

  “Can I have pancakes for breakfast, please?” Cassie requests.

  “You haven’t had breakfast?” I frown.

  “It’s barely eight o’clock, and you called with an emergency. Of course, she hasn’t had breakfast yet.”

  Cassie points at her dad. “He promised you’d make pancakes for us.”

  “He did, huh?” I take her hand the same way I used to when she was a tumbling toddler. “You are going to help me, though,” I say. “If we’re lucky, Gramps might share some of his liquid gold with us.”

  Her light blue eyes widen, and they crinkle with excitement.
“Do you think we can make maple candy?”

  “How about tomorrow?” I offer. “Today’s a pretty busy day.”

  “How so?” Heath looks around the empty dining room.

  “There’s a bride-to-be coming to check out the place with her parents and her in-laws.”

  “Here? Not the lodge?”

  “Ski resort,” I correct him.

  Last year, Kingston, my oldest brother, decided to rebrand our businesses and started with the lodge. We now call it the Ski Resort at the Harris Estate. Well, he also changed the furniture and renovated the entire building.

  Kingston wishes he could renovate the Victorian home where we run a B&B, but I won’t let him. It’s a historical building that’s been in the Harris family for five generations. We’ve owned the land where the farm, the orchard, the gift shop, the house, and the lodge stand, and have since the late eighteen hundreds.

  “This bride wants to find the perfect spot for the wedding. A guest referred the B&B and the farm. Not that Dad will let that happen.”

  “The farm isn’t a wedding destination,” my father’s voice booms through the kitchen even before he steps foot inside it. “That’s what the lodge is for.”

  “Ski resort,” I correct him, gritting my teeth.

  “Mr. Harris.” Heath nods.

  “Grampa Harry,” Cassie says as she runs to Dad.