The Trouble with Christmas

by Kaira Rouda

  “Sorry,” he said, still holding her. His hands wrapped around her arms like an electric band that warmed her all the way to her bones, and there was no way she could tear her riveted gaze from his mesmerizing blue eyes. A jolt of heat zipped throughout her body and lodged deep in her core.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Lily didn’t want to act like a teenager, but her brain wouldn’t function. Her body couldn’t move. It was like she’d been here before. Here with this man and his indigo gaze, melting her bones and turning her blood to honey.

  “Did I hurt you?” Now he looked concerned, and his hands smoothed up and down her arms.

  “I’m fine, my fault,” she said, noticing her voice sounded husky. What was her deal? Had she lost her mind? What about Bob, the man she’d wanted to marry, have children with, build a life with?

  “Sure you’re okay? I think I shook you up.”

  If he only knew the half of it. Lily wondered what he’d say if she told him, no, she was not fine. She was an idiot.

  She smiled and nodded. Truly an idiot.

  “Fine,” she said. “I wasn’t looking.”

  Missing seeing this man would be a tragedy no woman should have to endure.

  “No, I’m afraid I wasn’t paying attention and almost flattened you. Deep in thought, none of it good,” he laughed. “I’m Cole Stanton, and I’m not typically this clumsy.”

  “Lily Edmonds, and I typically stumble into at least one man every day.”

  She nearly clapped her hand over her mouth. Was she flirting? Was she heartbroken?

  “So I’m the quota for today. Good to know, Lily Edmonds. It’s early.” He looked at his watch. “You’ll have to be very careful for the rest of the day.”

  He was flirting back! Lily checked. No ring. And he was hot. Hotter than Brad Pitt. Self-consciously, she spun her ring around so the diamond pressed into her palm, reminding her of everything she no longer had. Why had she flirted? She hated men. She was done with men.

  “Maybe go home, draw the shutters.”

  “Or I could walk through the door again,” she said more boldly than she’d ever been in her life. Avery would faint. She would think Lily’s personality had been transplanted by aliens.

  “I’m willing,” he said easily, but he didn’t let go of her arm, and Lily could feel his fingers like a pulse through her body.

  “So, Lily, are you living on the island or just visiting?”

  Cole didn’t have a drawl. He definitely sounded like a Northerner. It took every ounce of nerve she had to continue making eye contact with his bright blue gaze. Her heart thudded and her palms were clammy. He finally released her arm and she felt herself sway. He was making her dizzy just standing there. She’d need to go home and drink something much harder than a sweet tea. She remembered he’d asked her a question.

  “Just visiting, staying with my best friend Avery Putnam, at the Putnam Plantation,” Lily managed, crossing her arms in front of her to try to calm herself down. She thought she saw him wince when she mentioned the Putnam name, but she wasn’t sure. “How about you?” she asked, totally horrified to realize she’d batted her lashes like a real Southern Belle. Am I a cartoon character?

  “Actually, I moved here from Boston in April. Quit my job, sold everything, and I’m starting over right here on the island,” Cole said and added “I bought a house, it’s on the eighteenth hole, a few miles north of the Putnam’s place. That’s the enormous white house with all the Christmas decorations out, right?”

  “That’s the place,” she said, laughing a bit. “It is a bit opulent, but Avery’s family is really amazing, very down to earth people.”

  Cole looked a bit skeptical, but his face was so open and friendly she found herself liking him even more, and relaxing a little in his company.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Putnam are very generous and entertain friends often. They need a big house because their entire family is often there. Plus, they have corporate events and parties at the house or at the inn.” She paused, realizing she sounded defensive. Why should she care what he thought? “Every weekend night they invite friends for cocktails. Why don’t you join us?” Lily said before she could stop herself.

  “You sure that would be okay?”

  “Sure. On the weekends there’s a standing seven p.m. cocktail hour,” Lily said. “They’ve had it since we were kids. Friends from the island drop in, have a drink, chat, and sometimes stay for dinner or split up and go out to dinner other places, you know, homes or restaurants on the island.”

  He straightened up and looked at her a little more intensely.

  “Every weekend?”

  “When they’re in residence, which is a lot. Evalyn says it’s a way to keep in touch with friends and the kids of their friends.”

  “I’d really love that,” he sounded so sincere, that Lily had to bite back a sigh.

  How could she be so attracted to a stranger? She just got dumped by Bob. The love of her life.

  “It will give me a taste of the life I’ve left behind.”

  “What…?” Lily began, but was caught by the shadow that crossed his face.

  “What can I bring?” Cole quickly interrupted, focusing so intently on her Lily lost her train of thought and just stared.

  “Just yourself,” she finally managed to drag some words out of her brain. “We’re well-stocked at the Putnam’s, well, except for sprinkles. I wanted to make a big batch of Christmas cookies but my friend Avery said I just can’t do that without sprinkles, and gum drops, and silver dragees, or as Avery calls them, those shiny silver ball thingies.”

  Cole laughed. “I know, cookies need to have sprinkles, for sure.”

  “They really don’t,” Lily said, her hands on her hips. “And they don’t need silver beads either. I’m a pastry chef with a degree from the Institute of Culinary Education in New York. This is my area, but there is no arguing with Avery, never was.”

  Cole laughed and his blue eyes seemed to swallow her up. Lily felt a definite blush washing over her face and neck. Get over it. You are thirty not fourteen.

  “Well if you’re here to look for decorations, you’re out of luck. They don’t have cookie decorations, just the good ol’ slice n’ bake cookie dough with the embedded reindeer face,” Cole says. “No home decorations either, I’m afraid.”

  “Guess it’s gingerbread men with icing after all,” Lily said, daring to look up at Cole’s perfect chin, his sculpted cheekbones, his thick blonde hair.

  “We have some sprinkles at the restaurant. I can bring them tonight, if you can wait,” Cole says.

  “What restaurant? Over at the inn?” Lily asked.

  “No. Marshside Mama’s. The best place on the island,” Cole said smiling until he noticed her confusion. “You’ve never heard of it?”

  “Nope,” Lily noticed the sadness in his incredible blue eyes. “Is it new?”

  “No, it’s been around for two generations,”

  “Oh,” Lily felt bad. She’d been coming to Indigo Island for years. “Probably Avery’s heard of it.”

  She apparently didn’t sound confident.

  “Damn, I need to figure this out,” he said. “It’s my restaurant and I seem to have done a poor job of getting the word out, beyond day-trippers and the backside residents.”

  He ran his fingers through his thick hair. Lily felt his frustration, but her heart lurched, practically sang. He’s in the same business as I am. He owns a restaurant. What’s wrong with me?

  “Are you a chef, too?” Lily asked.

  “No, I’m the business partner. I’m in charge of advertising and trying to make a profit. Obviously, I’ve done a bad job,” he said.

  “Well, come over tonight and tell the Putnams all about it. Once they know about something, it’s hard to keep it a secret,” Lily said with a smile and swished her ponytail behind her back. “And, any sprinkles you can spare, we’ll take.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I need to head back to the re
staurant,” Cole said as he headed down the stairs. “You want to come see it? Try a bowl of gumbo? You could follow me over in your cart and meet Sally Ann, my partner.”

  Lily’s heart skipped a beat before she could answer. She did need sprinkles. “Sure, that sounds great,” she answered.

  “It’s a straight line to the backside of the island. You shouldn’t have any trouble getting there,” Cole said, pushing his hair off his face with his hand.

  “I’ve been to Indigo a bunch, but never to the backside,” Lily said climbing into the golf cart.

  “It’s a treat,” Cole said, hopping into his own cart and pulling out in front of her. As Lily followed behind him, the ocean at her back, the cart path twisted through the moss-covered oak trees that looked like something out of a nightmare, with a mist beginning to fill the air. Past the gates of the Melrose Plantation, the forest turned thick and eerie in the afternoon light. The weather was chilly, mid-forties Lily guessed, and misting. And she followed a stranger to the backside of the island for sprinkles. What had she gotten herself into? She was acting out of character. Then she remembered her promise to herself. No more hiding, relying on Avery. She was going to rescue herself instead of letting others do it. And yes, she also remembered Cole’s amazing smile and devouring gaze. She quickly texted Avery about her sprinkles, quest, and restaurant detour, but did not mention Cole.

  Lily watched as Cole pulled up to a tin-roofed cottage with a hand-painted sign proclaiming Marshside Mama’s. Beyond the parking lot, a dock jutted out into the salt water marsh which looked impossibly still and eerie, a sepia scene. Lily shivered as she turned off the golf cart and pocketed the key.

  “Welcome to Marshside Mama’s,” Cole said offering his hand to help her out of the cart. As they touched, the strange current zipped through her. “This is what I decided to purchase, along with my own cottage, when I moved to the island. I had a very convincing Realtor. She saw a sucker.”

  “Oh, no, it’s charming, really,” Lily said, noticing the colorfully painted walls visible through the front windows.

  “I didn’t know anything about restaurants or food service. I thought I could help Sally Ann, the real owner. It’s been in her family for two generations until her nephew ran off with all her savings, as well as the restaurant’s profits last year. She was headed to foreclosure on her house and the restaurant, and that is the only source of income for her entire family.”

  “Did you know her?” Lily asked, saddened by the story.

  She sensed something dark chase across his face.

  “No, not exactly,” he said slowly. “But she needed help. I’m afraid I’ve been the opposite in my life before this,” Cole said. “Oh, you’re freezing, let’s get inside.”

  Lily was shivering, but she hardly noticed as her mind turned over the problem of the restaurant. Why wasn’t it successful? Why did Cole help a stranger? She followed him inside and was immediately charmed by the plastic chairs and simple wood tables, the colorful artwork on the pink and green walls, the tropical feel of the place. She rubbed her hands together, warming up.

  “It’s cute,” she noted. “Very island themed.”

  “Sally Ann is probably in the kitchen,” Cole said and pushed through a swinging door.

  Lily smiled at his profile, his strong cleft chin, his thick, curly blonde hair. He’s gorgeous. She followed him inside the kitchen. She came face to face with the woman who must be Sally Ann.

  “Oh, hi,” Lily said, embarrassed. Cooks didn’t often welcome strangers in their kitchens, and she of all people should have thought of that.

  Sally Ann turned and Lily felt the woman’s dark brown eyes sizing her up, her large face remaining a mask until she turned her attention back to a large iron pot she’s stirring at the stove. The kitchen smelled like garlic and corn and spicy sausage.

  “Hey, Sally Ann. This is Lily. She’s a chef visiting the island, and I thought you two would enjoy meeting,” Cole says, clearly uncomfortable around the woman.

  “Hello,” Lily said, walking over to the pot and taking a deep breath. “This smells heavenly. Jambalaya?”

  Sally Ann turned her attention to Lily, and Lily felt a silent assessment wash over her. “No child. Conch soup with smoked neck bone.”

  “I haven’t had conch soup in so long. May I try it?” Lily asked, and Sally Ann nodded and dipped a spoon into the steaming pot, and held it for Lily. “That’s really good. It tastes like conch chowder but with more of a punch. I would love to learn how to make that.”

  “Mmm, hmm,” Sally Ann said, turning her attention back to the pot. “What kind of cooking do you do?”

  “I’m a pastry chef back home, but I enjoy all types,” Lily said.

  “Good, cause we need the help,” Sally Ann said.

  “Help with what?” Lily asked.

  “You bring her here but didn’t tell her what you’ve done?”

  Lily turned in time to see Cole pale.

  “That’s not why I brought her here,” he said.

  The look Sally Ann leveled at him would have been hilarious if Cole hadn’t been so obviously uncomfortable.

  “No?” Sally Ann looks Lily up and down and then stares at Cole, hand on her hip. Then she draws out a long “Ooooooooh. I see.”

  Cole shifted his weight and looked about to speak but said nothing.

  “Thought you were all about focusing on business,” Sally Ann said to the soup pot.

  Lily felt her cheeks flare and silently cursed her revealing face. It was as if Sally Ann had read her mind, maybe Cole’s mind, too.

  “Yes, tell me about your business. Your business problem,” she said quickly.

  Sally Ann turned back to the steaming soup pot, and Lily could swear she caught a glimpse of a smile.

  She felt like she’d been set up, like there was a secret everyone knew but her.

  “Nothing you need to worry about,” Cole said.

  Sally Ann snorted.

  “Let me get you those sprinkles,” Cole stepped away and paced randomly around the kitchen, his hand jerked through his hair.

  Lily looked back at Sally Ann, who was definitely smiling. She winked at Lily and tilted her head. Lily followed with her eyes and saw a box of baking supplies on a top shelf in a plaid box.

  “You are bad,” Lily whispered. She reached up and retrieved the box. “Cole, just tell me your problem.” She said louder, not enjoying seeing him suffer as obviously Sally Ann did.

  “I thought we had a great opportunity to reach out to all these families staying at different plantations here during the holidays. To spread the word about the restaurant and deliver them a great meal, right to their door. Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was a mistake, clearly,” Cole said, his shoulders slumping.

  “Why was it a mistake?” Lily asked, thinking it sounded like a great plan. “I’m sure people loved the traditional Indigo Island Thanksgiving, didn’t they?”

  “We didn’t much celebrate Thanksgiving over here,” Sally Ann said, her arm stirring the pot more quickly. “So whatever he had me make wasn’t authentic to anything.” Sally Ann had dropped the wooden spoon and stepped away from the pot, picking up an iron skillet filled with a couple of grouper filets.

  “Her famous grouper sandwich,” Cole said, pointing to the pan.

  “Christmas is gonna be the same thing,” Sally Ann said, rolling her eyes. “But you’re the boss. Just tell me what to do.” She turned her back to them to light the stove to fry the fish.

  Lily was stunned. There was huge tension between the two of them, but she sensed they both meant well. She has an odd sense of being a referee on a cooking show. It’s like they both needed a good yelling at by Gordon Ramsey then a group hug. She looked at Sally’s Ann’s stiff back and Cole’s obvious discomfort.

  There was a mystery here. And a challenge. Those were two things that could definitely take her mind off her troubles, as well as give her something useful to do over the next few weeks. The trouble with Chri
stmas was that it was a time for families, and Lily didn’t have one. She no longer even had her fiancé, and with Avery married and Blake engaged to Samantha, she was going to be odd woman out more than usual. But before she jumped into anything, she needed to think.

  “Cole, I have to get back to the Putnams. Sally Ann, your cooking is fabulous. Thank you for the taste,” she said and walked away from the angry head chef to the swinging door. “Oh, sprinkles,” she rifled through the box and found some green and red sprinkles, but no silver balls.

  Lily pushed through the swinging door and waited in the empty dining room. She loved restaurants, the challenge of providing good food, the right timing, a good atmosphere, and that something special, the floor presence that made a place feel more like a welcoming home.

  “Got the sprinkles? Great.” He looked relieved to be out of the kitchen. His face gained color and he smiled, although he still looked embarrassed. “Listen, I’m really sorry about that in there. I really just brought you here to show you the restaurant and give you sprinkles. I didn’t…”

  “I know. No foul,” Lily smiled. “But, really, you’ve made me think. You know, I might be able to help. I’m not doing anything except baking cookies and decorating trees. And that second task is complete.”

  “Really?” Cole asked and again pushed his hair back from his forehead, a move Lily recognized as a stress reflex.

  “Really,” Lily said. “Let’s talk more tonight at the Putnam’s. Is the timing alright for you or is it the middle of your dinner rush?”

  “There isn’t much of a rush these days, and Sally Ann prefers her daughter at the host stand over me these days,” Cole said. “Cocktails at seven sounds wonderful. Let me give you a coat for the return drive. I can get it back from you tonight.”

  Lily watched him open the closet behind the host stand and pull out a black puffy down jacket. He held it out for her and she shrugged inside it. It was big, but cozy and smelled like Cole. Stop it. She tried to control her heartbeat.