“Then,” Lillianna continued, “along came Lydia. Lydia has become one of Purple Door’s most ardent patrons. Beyond that, though, patron or not, she’s one of my best friends. She’s such a gem.”
Dustin cleared his throat and forced himself forward. His roaming continued, until he came upon a set of wall hangings that stopped him short.
“Wow. This plate looks just like a piece of the sea.” He caught on to the theme of the decorative mosaic with instinct, and instant appreciation. Tiny, clear glass pieces were positioned into a shimmering design that melded into shades of pale blue, then turquoise, then vivid sapphire. “It’s a show stopper.”
“Paige Miller is the artist. She travels to Mobile for a month every summer to indulge in what she refers to as beachside inspiration.”
Shadows fell against his spirit, anchoring his heart. “Man. What must that feel like?”
“What do you mean?”
Dustin shrugged heavily, avoided her sweet eyes by continuing to review the store’s products. “I wonder what it would it feel like to vacate. To really vacate. To go somewhere else for a month and just…be.”
“It feels like heaven. Trust me. You should try it some time.”
Lillianna framed the words in a playful tone, but all Dustin could offer in response was uncertainty, uncertainty paired with a surprising degree of vulnerability. “Yeah. I guess I should. Where do you vacate to?”
“The Smoky Mountains.” She answered without hesitation. “Pigeon Forge to be exact. There’s this perfect little A-frame log-cabin I go to called Enchanted.”
Dustin shook his head. Grinned. “Of course it’s called Enchanted.”
“Don’t be snarky,” she teased.
“Totally not being snarky. I’m…enchanted. Go on.”
“Thank you for that, and I will. The cabin has a massive deck, views to die for, and every day I spend there feels like I’m at a spa.”
“Wow.”
“Yep. I check out for a month each fall and savor the explosion of tree color, the smell of leaves burning, the foggy mist in the valleys when you wake up in the morning, crisp air infused by the aroma of pine. I build my life to include breathing room. I have to, or I’d go crazy. Guess it’s just how I’m wired.”
Dustin pondered that in a moment of unfettered longing, but then, he came clean. “Sounds great, but for me, the idea of being away from work for a week is enough to send nightmares of unending e-mails, or project issues, meetings and deadlines, you name it.”
“Yeah. I remember that about you.” Lillianna seemed to fight to muster a smile. “You were class valedictorian. You were driven. Are driven.”
Evidently, guessing by the tone of her voice, she felt bad that Dustin couldn’t find a way to true peace. That made two of them, and that fact-of-life transformed to yet another shocker for him.
“I suppose that’s why we were such opposites back in high school,” Lillianna concluded.
That sad statement simply added fuel to a thoroughly unexpected fire of disappointment. What had he been missing all this time? Dustin folded onto a comfy love seat positioned at the far end of the shop, wondering about his mood and reactions. The seating area also featured an easy chair, and a dark-wood coffee table covered by magazines and centered by a holiday arrangement of evergreen branches. Thick green spikes were dotted by shimmering ornaments in gold, red, blue, and silver. Within it all rested a wide, glass-encased candle of white that perfumed the air with the subtle aroma of cinnamon and apple. Lovely. Calming.
Suddenly, that was exactly what he needed.
He propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, silent for a time while he studied his folded hands. “I thought we were friends in high school.”
“We totally were…it’s just…you know…we were…distant.” She settled next to him, hastening to add, “That’s not meant to be anything good or bad, it just…was.”
Okay, this conversation disintegrated rapidly into the realm of awkward. Dustin heaved a sigh, assailed once again by vulnerability, this time tempered by a warming bloom of affection. The vibrations this lovely creature delivered struck home with a bullseye. How had he not recognized that from the moment they met?
Immaturity, that’s how.
So, the openness continued to flow. “My father measured success by monetary gain. Not out of a desire to be flashy, or lord wealth and status over people. He’s always been a generous, kind man. But he was demanding, too. He always wanted what was best. The best grades. The best colleges. The best job. From his point of view, that kind of…attaining…would bring about stability. Security. And, yes, respect. Things that would last and pave the way to a good life.”
“There’s nothing wrong with any of that, either,” she assured in a gentle tone, leaning forward as well, almost close enough to touch, to hold. Her lilac scented perfume, subtle and enticing, reached out to him like a safe harbor. “Just don’t let those aspirations dry your soul.”
“Balance. Is that what you mean?”
“I suppose so, yes.”
Her smile touched a few of the fractures within him, sealed them with tender care. Dustin felt powerless to do much more than sink into large eyes of palest blue, then float—savor. And, perhaps that was for the best. Looking at her within the bubble of a still silence wasn’t complicated. His burgeoning emotions, however, were complicated to the highest power. The past, this reunion, the business to come, became convoluted, building into a fog that rolled.
“Are you okay?”
She rested a hand on his, the gesture automatic, meant to comfort, but her warmth sang against greedy senses into a reaction that was unquestionably attraction.
Seriously. Where was all of this coming from?
“I’m good. Yeah. Thanks.” The words came too rushed, too false. With graceful poise, she allowed the response to pass. “So how about this? We help that ‘not drying out’ process by sharing some coffee? You game?”
“S..sure…”
Dustin studied her for a moment. Was she hesitant about accepting his offer? The tenuous thread of hope that laced her stammered reply assured him and powered his answering smile.
Chapter 3
Dustin entered the lobby of Christmas Inn, basking in the afterglow of his delightful, impromptu, coffee date with Lillianna. The heavy, thick wooden door closed behind him with a solid thud as he stomped slush from his boots on a large rubber mat of deep red that declared, ‘It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.’ Somehow, even that clichéd sentiment appealed to him right now.
For the time being, as he established contact and his own perspectives about the business opportunity at Purple Door, all topics work-related took a back seat to simply getting to know Lillianna again…well, for the first time, actually. They laughed over old friends and shared memories, favorite songs, shenanigans at Friday-night-lights football games. He took pleasure in showing her she had been more noticed, and appreciated, than she might have ever realized.
Dustin headed toward the curved stairwell near reception. A massive Christmas tree, real, of course, stood sentinel and spiced the air to perfection. A fire crackled and popped within the confines of a massive fieldstone fireplace located at the far side of the common area.
But then, a cool breeze skimmed briefly against the back of his neck, like the delicate brush of an angel’s wings. He turned in the direction of the draft. The reception desk. There, as expected, sat Lydia Forrester, tapping away at her computer, eyes trained on the monitor before her, lips pursed.
Weird. No one else had entered the Inn or walked past him. A light snowfall glittered and fell outside, so certainly there were no open doors or windows. His gaze continued to roam as a second flutter of air brushed against his skin. He shook his head, starting to question his sanity. Last night, when he checked in, he could have sworn he heard bell chimes, soft and distant, almost ghostly, from just outside the B&B. He had written it off to being travel tired.
Now, he wasn’t s
o sure.
Dustin looked up, drawn to the display of a wooden manger tucked carefully within a recessed shelf above the welcome desk. Inside the distressed wooden manger, resting upon a bed of snowy white silk, were hand painted, porcelain renderings of Jesus, Mary, Joseph, the wise men, an assortment of farm animals, and, of course, an angel with wings spread wide, a golden halo tipping her head…
The porcelain figurines possessed such a fine level of detail they captured his imagination at once. The set was stunning, most likely a precious antique heirloom. Why did it compel him so deeply, with almost mystical power?
“Lydia, you’ve got to taste this!”
Dustin snapped to attention, jarred by the arrival of a lean, intense man who burst through the nearby doors to the kitchen area. He filled the reception area at once via nothing more than the power of his presence.
“Whatcha got, love?” Not only did Lydia give the man her entire attention, she treated him to a smile that was nothing short of dazzling and punctuated by a charming pair of dimples. Lydia was all things gentle and sweet. No wonder she and Lillianna had struck up such a fast and easy friendship.
“It’s a Christmas-themed treat I created—and I think I might be on to something incredible.”
He strode into the inner reception area and lifted a white, red-swirled square of bark-like chocolate to Lydia’s waiting lips. She accepted the offering, chewed for a second or two. Eyes going wide, she sighed with obvious delight. “Oh. My. Goodness. Graham. Serve this for dessert tonight. I’m begging you. We’ll gain repeat customers by the droves based on this alone. Oh! Oh! Maybe we can produce enough to leave small, foil-wrapped squares on the guest’s pillowcases tomorrow night, or as treats in little gift bags at check in or check out, or…”
"Woah, Lydia! I love the enthusiasm, but—wow!” Graham’s laughter filled the air with loving music just as sure as last night’s mystical bell chimes had filled Dustin’s head. Lillianna’s image came alive in his heart. “Although…I guess I could make it happen. White chocolate, cinnamon, and toffy bits along with a subtle hint of mint. It all combines into a crunchy, sweet and spicy swirl. This just might be my hand-made masterpiece.”
He sounded just like one of those guys from the Food Network. The idea caused Dustin to gasp. He shook his head, disbelieving the idea that…holy cow…
This was Graham Forrester. This was the Graham Forrester. Married to Lydia Forrester. Why hadn’t that fact registered sooner? Here stood a Tennessee restaurant legend and retired television personality. Dustin looked around the lobby. Christmas Inn, framed within over-the-top holiday grandeur, was where life, and the call of the heart, had landed Graham.
Nicely done, Forrester, Dustin acquiesced in an admiring silence. Nicely done.
“Can I help you, Dustin? I’m sorry I didn’t see you sooner.”
In answer to Lydia’s summons, Dustin approached reception, offering a grin. “No worries. I can’t compete with a fresh batch of Christmas chocolate from the likes of your husband.” Dustin extended his hand to Graham. “I’m Dustin Farrell.”
“Christmas Chocolate. Hmm. I think I love that moniker.” Dustin’s gesture was accepted at once, in a firm, warm grip. “Graham Forrester. Nice to meet you. Are you a guest of the Inn?”
“I am.”
This time, Graham grinned. “I sure hope you like Christmas.”
“I’m coming to love it more and more.”
“Good on you.” Graham shared a meaningful look with Lydia, visibly lost himself in her gaze. “I found myself in the same frame of mind not long ago. Now, I love Christmas more than anything.” He shared a wink with Lydia then snapped to attention. “I hope to see you at dinner tonight.”
Dinner. What a great idea. A lovely, upscale meal at a quaint inn, accompanied by hand-made chocolate and bayberry scented candles? Perfection. An idea sparked. Lillianna. He’d invite Lillianna. Witnessing the exchange between Graham and Lydia propelled him toward the exploration of hopeful, romantic terrain. Lillianna would love sampling a bit of that Christmas bark, wouldn’t she? And they could talk. At length. Maybe even about business.
“If I bring a guest, can I be guaranteed a couple pieces of that chocolate you just made?”
Lydia and Graham exchanged a look rife with knowing before Lydia nodded and Graham answered. “That’s a promise.”
“Excellent.”
At Purple Door, Lillianna consulted with an exuberant maid-of-honor-to-be. They sat across from one another at a desk stationed in a far corner of the shop. Cordoned off from the selling floor via a pair of Oriental-style folding screens, this was her welcome spot for customers who required special event consultation, or uniquely made items. The mahogany desk surface shone beneath the gentle hue of recessed ceiling lights. Perched upon a credenza to the right, an antique Georgian samovar of sterling silver was framed by settings of porcelain tea cups with matching saucers crafted in shades of white and sky-blue. By design, this was a world painted in hues of golden saffron and illuminated further by the wishes of those who trusted her with their dreams.
“I’m thinking what would be perfect is a large, wooden gift basket stuffed with all kinds of housewares.” Lillianna’s customer, Yvette Fisher, sipped jasmine tea from one of those tea cups and continued. “I’m thinking of things like kitchen gadgets, or some monogramed hand towels and such.”
Intrigued by the notion, Lillianna nodded and edged forward, listening while her customer sipped again and continued. “Lisa, the bride, has been like a sister to me from the day we met, decades ago. I want my gift to her and David to reflect that fact. I want it to be spectacular.”
“I understand completely, and I’m sure we can help. Let me show you some examples of what I can do.” Lillianna slid open the top drawer of her desk and pulled free a packet of vendor brochures. From there, she shared ideas with her prospect. There were several options, so Lillianna focused their choices on a few basket options that would fit the request, along with the personalization techniques she would use to make the gift exclusive to the wedding.
Yvette sorted through pictures and pricing. Lillianna, meanwhile, noticed the silent, flashing alert of an incoming text to her cell phone. From Dustin Farrell. Her breath hitched. Granted, they had exchanged contact information, but had she expected him to utilize the connection so quickly?
Ah, no. Not really.
All over again, Lillianna battled a familiar swell of tongue-tying shyness, of wistful attraction. A nasty push of feeling warned her not to get her hopes up. She’d never remain of interest to a charismatic, successful guy like Dustin.
But was his persona, his reality, truly as effortless as she once believed? After what he had shared the other day, she wasn’t so sure. Her perceptions from long ago didn’t ring true in the clearer light of day.
The text indicator continued to flash.
Hey, Lillianna, can you possibly…
That was all she could see for the time being and curiosity clawed at her like a relentless tiger. She longed to grab the device and engage her text ap, but of course, doing so would be inappropriate when in the company of a client.
“Here we go,” Yvette chirped. “This is perfect!”
Doing her best to disguise an urgent desire to conclude the meeting, Lillianna offered an encouraging smile and her full attention. “Let’s see what you’ve found.”
In the offered picture, a large, oval shaped basket of woven wood was stuffed to overflowing with towels, strainers, graters, monogramed wooden serving spoons, a small, monogrammed cutting board meant for meat and cheeses.
Lillianna functioned on auto-pilot. She cared, deeply, about Yvette’s choices and wishes, but her heart strayed to the text message from Dustin. In no way did she want to short-change her customer, but truth to tell, she couldn’t wait to respond.
“Yvette, this is fantastic. I can order the basket from my supplier and from there you’ll be able to personalize it however you wish.”
“And I’ll
fill it with all kinds of goodies!”
A happy vibe concluded the meeting as an order was finalized. That’s what Lillianna loved most about her job. Fulfillment—not just in a material sense, but in the sure knowledge that her creations would build lasting memories, and impact.
Once Yvette placed her order and left the shop, Lillianna lunged for her cell phone and tapped into the text message from Dustin.
Hey, Lillianna, can you possibly meet me at Christmas Inn for dinner tonight? I know it’s short notice, but I’m hoping you can make it. Looking forward to seeing you. Dustin
Dinner. Dustin. Two words circled through her head, and heart, like swooping, playful doves.
That sounds wonderful. She tapped the letters, fast and sure. What time?
Chapter 4
LILLIANNA CROSSED THROUGH THE LOBBY of Christmas Inn. When Lydia Forrester detected her entrée, she dashed from behind reception, eyes wide. “Girlfriend, you look stunning!”
“Oh, stop.”
“No, seriously. You’re a vision.”
“Over the top?” Lillianna’s hands trembled as she smoothed them against the shimmery, silver fabric of her dress.
“More like glittering and perfect.”
The dress was asymmetrical, snug at the bodice, then flaring into fluid ripples that danced against her legs. It was a special occasion in nature, but Christmas neared, and opportunities to feel dazzling were made for moments like this.
“So, what are we celebrating?” Lydia accompanied her toward the dining room, bumping her shoulder gently against Lillianna’s.
“Nothing. I’m just having dinner with an old friend.”
And once she spotted Dustin, Lillianna surrendered all doubt about her appearance. When his admiring gaze swept slowly from head to toe, when his smile dawned, she was glad she had opted to primp and add a special touch of flair to their dinner tonight.
She left Lydia behind and was welcomed by Dustin when she joined him at their table. He held out her chair and tucked her carefully into place. Lillianna settled with pleasure, a warm glow moving through her body.
Love at Christmas Inn Collection 2 Page 18
