A gentle tug at the waist from Dustin and their bodies were perfectly aligned, chest to chest—heart to heart. In slow, steady measure his head dipped and before Lillianna could blink, or draw breath, warm, softly giving lips became a tingling, sensory contrast to the lacy swirls of snow that danced from the sky, coating her flush-heated cheeks, adding tender dew to the gentle stroke of his fingertips against her jawline, her neck.
This was the kiss she had wished for since high school, in the deepest, secret reaches of her dreams, never admitting it to anyone, keeping it locked tightly away in her heart.
At last, they parted. Tiny sparkles of melted ice glittered in his dark hair, a fine layer that dampened her thin wool gloves as she drew him in once more, and held him close.
Church bells began to chime…softly…from somewhere…the sound dancing lightly on the air in a melody so pure, so sweet and soft, Lillianna froze, and so did Dustin. There was no pealing of the hour, it wasn’t near time for that, but music filled the air for at least twenty or thirty seconds, transcending and compelling.
Dustin’s cell phone vibrated through the chest pocket of his coat and then sang a song of rippling waves. The techno intrusion jarred them both even further from the serenity of the moment and Lillianna stepped away fast.
Dustin extracted his phone. His shoulders slumped when he looked at the screen. He returned his focus to Lillianna. “I’m so sorry. I have to take this.”
“No worries.” Lillianna nodded, and turned toward the Inn, intending a speedy escape from the folly of her own wishful thinking. “I’ll see you later.”
Dustin caught hold of her hand just before she scrambled out of reach, gently stalling her retreat. “Yes, you will.” His eyes sparkled in the fast-fading light. His quiet tone and intensity effectively danced against her pulse.
Curse it all. This was insane. Truly insane. Her? Dustin? Snow-kissed…kisses?
Back off right now, she warned herself, before heartbreak ensues.
Chapter 8
DUSTIN’S STOMACH SANK WHILE HE watched Lillianna leave. She dashed away on fast feet, her boot marks tracking straight to the warm window lights of Christmas Inn, and most likely straight through to her car in the front parking lot. Dustin suppressed a mild oath and studied the notification on his phone screen once more. Glenn. Of all the stinking luck. See also: What awful timing.
Fighting a growl, Dustin engaged the call. Before he could even issue a greeting, his boss’s voice came through loud and clear. “Any news to report?”
What a loaded question, he thought. What an absolutely loaded question.
Undeterred by silence, Glenn pushed on. “Hey, man. Your heart is still in this, right?”
Oh, Glenn, more than you could possibly imagine. “Yes, it is. Their counsel has reviewed the proposal and Maxine and Lillianna have agreed to the terms.”
“Great! Nothing left to do but get it signed. You’ve got the buy-in we need; let’s get this deal done and celebrate!”
Glenn’s zeal grated on Dustin’s nerves, rubbed like sand against the protectiveness he felt. The buy-in was indeed set, but was it right?
For the first time in his star-kissed professional life, Dustin didn’t know for sure.
He concluded the call with Glenn then trudged through mild drifts to the rear entrance of Christmas Inn, bypassing the glittery, garlanded world around him for the sanctuary of his room on the second floor.
The irony of his assigned suite struck Dustin all over again when he unlocked the door—with an old-fashioned brass key, of course—and stepped inside. When he had first checked in, Paulina informed him the room was most commonly used as a honeymoon suite. With its incomparable view, ensuite bath, and sheer-draped canopy bed…it spoke eloquently of holiday-style romance.
Just fabulous.
What’s your dream, Dustin? Lillianna’s words followed him, a haunting that tweaked his urge to make a change, to find fulfillment and the kind of joy she seemed to uncover and embrace instinctively.
He pushed back heavy brocade drapes and propped a hip against the sill of the bay window. While he surveyed the outside world, the grounds he had just left behind, thoughts of kissing Lillianna, of holding her close, were all he could see, or feel.
The courtyard below was lit by multi-colored fairy lights that wrapped their way around a rim of small evergreen bushes. The curving line of Jingle Bell Creek faded fast as darkness rode in. Looking straight ahead, he caught sight of North Pole Bridge. On the opposite side of the property, way off in the distance, was—of course—South Pole Bridge.
This was a fantasy world, a fantasy life he had inadvertently tumbled into. Right?
Wrong.
What he had found here, with Lillianna, was real. More real than anything he had ever experienced before, and there was no escaping that truth. Groaning in defeat, Dustin batted absently against the fringed tassels that hung from a hook on the wall, ready to hold back the drapes once daybreak arrived.
He needed sleep, and the mahogany four-poster that dominated the room called like a siren’s song. Until he thought of the kisses with Lilliana, that dewy soft surrender. Father Christmas winked at him from a stand on the nearby end table. The old man’s velvet sack overflowed, and his countenance was playful and warm. A mockery of every emotion surging through Dustin’s veins right now.
Changing for the night, he climbed beneath the plush down comforter and stretched tired muscles. Dustin fought for rest, but the conversations he had shared with Lillianna refused to evaporate into the peaceful oasis of sleep. Her words had bathed him in the type of pure, unconditional love of Christ he had heard about in sermon after sermon at many a church service. Hers was the kind of loving grace he had tried his whole faith-life to believe in, and embrace. Only now did he truly know its worth, and its truth, all because of Lillianna’s unguarded display of love. And there was no other word for it but love, a love he soaked in like the arid, thirsty man he had allowed himself to become without even realizing it.
Life could take you by surprise and knock you off your charted course, but where did that leave him, exactly? Right now, he just didn’t know.
Nearly twenty-four hours passed, and Dustin found himself no closer to answers about his future. That itch of disquiet hadn’t subsided whatsoever since the unofficial closure of his business assignment. Documents were being finalized by Kilgore Group and he expected FedEx delivery within days.
To remedy turmoil, he decided to take a walk, retracing the steps he had taken with Lillianna yesterday. There’d be a form of comfort in that. Pulling on boots, a wool coat and gloves, Dustin struck out from the Inn, passing through the courtyard and heading to the line of trees that bordered the perimeter of the property.
Dry, brittle snow crunched beneath his rhythmic footfalls. Chattering tree branches, the occasional swoop of snow birds, lulled him to a point where thoughts poured free. In silence Dustin rehearsed potential work scenarios, each of them starring Glenn and the mod-squad from Kilgore. A morning conference call with Glenn and Chuck Devereaux of Kilgore had gone about as expected, with Chuck going on and on about artistic reach and assembly paired with smart operational values that would lead to money-making opportunities across North America.
But first, of course, they’d start by building the Purple Door brand through the southern tier of states. After that, they’d climb north to the business-world trifecta of New York, Massachusetts and Philadelphia.
Dustin’s hike came to a stop when he realized how far he had wandered. When he came aware of the sight before him, his breath released in less than steady puffs of steamy vapor.
Towering before him, in a show of strength personified, was a chapel. A good old-fashioned cross-tipped, white clapboard chapel. The building even featured a steeple, and a bell. The bell. He knew it for certain. A series of stained-glass windows patterned each side of the building, catching the last golden rays of sunset and splashing rainbow color across supple drifts of undisturbed snow. H
e couldn’t resist taking a walk up the long, narrow steps and peeking inside. Like any country church in a small-town area, he felt sure it wouldn’t be locked.
Sure enough, heavy wood doors pushed open with a protesting creak when he heaved his shoulder against them. Specks of dust flew, then resettled when he walked inside. Dim lighting bathed the space with an ethereal glow. Wooden pews gleamed. Floorboards sang beneath his quiet steps along an aisle that stretched to the pulpit and sanctuary that dominated the front of the church. Suddenly coveting this lush, pure silence, Dustin chose to sit in a spot near the front. He could feel, and almost hear, the voices of the past, the teachings, the Scripture readings. Once upon a time, his ancestors had probably worshiped at this very spot…
He leaned forward against the pew, resting his head on folded hands. He closed his eyes and prayed. He prayed for nothing specific, but everything he believed God was working on in his life, and in Lillianna’s. He prayed for that which he knew would be best: God’s grace and will, pouring down like the pure, white covering of snow outside the walls of this beautiful church.
Refreshed and nourished, he lifted to his feet and made his way up the aisle once more. That’s when an object caught his eye, laying on the floor, abandoned and neglected beneath a registration desk full of church bulletins, sign-up sheets, prayer requests and devotional magazines. It was a solitary piece of wood, its circles of life nearly white and encased within a border of rough, dark brown bark.
And the piece resembled the shape of a heart.
Dustin retrieved the chunk of wood, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him. But sure enough, it was small, and solid, and perfect for the idea that sprang promptly to mind.
He knew just what to do with this unexpected treasure.
The next day, first thing in the morning, Dustin headed straight for Purple Door. He knew Lillianna would be teaching class at Christmas Inn for the next couple of hours, so he ran no risk of running into her at the shop. For now, he didn’t want to see Lillianna. Rather, he wanted a consult with the shop’s co-owner, who manned the front of the shop like a matriarch.
Rejuvenated, Dustin watched Maxine at work and experienced a swell of joy. Not one thing about this place, and its methodologies, should change by even the slightest degree.
“Dustin! Hello there!”
He greeted Maxine with a wave, waiting while she finished concluding a sale with a group of enthusiastic teenagers.
“Is there any fresh news to report? Am I global yet?”
Maxine’s sparkle and pizzazz left him chuckling. “Not yet, but, hey, give it a couple days, okay?”
“I suppose.” She sighed dramatically, in generous tease, obviously excited by the newfound direction of her company. “But patience has never been my virtue.”
“That’s because you cornered the market on charm in a major way.”
“You’re so sweet. What can I do for you?”
Ah, yes. The project. Dustin withdrew the wooden piece from his coat pocket and offered it to Maxine. She studied the piece while he filled her in on how he had come across it, and where. From there, he outlined his plans, right down to peppering Maxine with questions about service schedules and protocols at the chapel with the mystery bell.
In short, he was a man with a plan.
While he explained, Maxine spoke not a word, but her eyes went misty as she stroked the humble piece. Dustin concluded. “I know the basics of wood burning. I can create the design I want, but I need the tools, and I’ll definitely need your help with the final details, like finishing it off with some beauty and polish after I burn the piece. I want this to be special for Lillianna. Something she’ll treasure for many, many years. Can you help me?”
The wily woman’s eyes went from sentimental moist to sharp as a tack in the time it took her to blink. She regarded him in silence for a few ticks of the antique wall clock that rested above the cashier’s station. “I can, and I will. But only if you agree to help me in return.”
Dustin grinned, his heart floating free as though released from captivity for the first time. “Name your price.”
“I have a proposition for you. A business proposition that may seem crazy on the surface, but I know will be awesome for Purple Door. Want to give a listen and help me make it happen?”
Puzzled but intrigued, Dustin nodded. Was she rethinking the franchising offer? Her enthusiasm had seemed absolute. “Of course. Bring it on.”
Visibly satisfied, Maxine twirled toward the rear of the store, heading for the empty design studio. “Good. Then follow me. We can talk it over while you get to work crafting a life-moment and memory for our Lillianna.” She paused just long enough to look over her shoulder. “I think Eloisa Christmas would be very, very proud of her great-grandson.”
Chapter 9
LILLIANNA HAD BATTLED A HEADACHE all morning. Furthermore, from a creative perspective—blame it on the headache, thank you—nothing inspired her. Nothing lifted her past the wretched way she felt after fleeing from Dustin the other night. Not only had she skittered off like a startled doe, she had avoided him ever since.
Curse her timid heart.
But seriously? What was the point? Every argument she’d made with herself over the past two days still held true. Dustin had sealed the business deal and would head back to New York at any time now. There was no wrong in that truth—his life was in New York.
He certainly didn’t belong in Hope Creek.
Gabriella rested on the design desk before her, her mystical angel-joy a stark contrast to the soggy, downtrodden condition of Lillianna’s spirit right now.
Until she thought of Dustin, and how much he had loved the piece.
She sighed, eyes beginning to sting when she recalled his reaction to this rendering. He had fallen in love with Gabriella. The emotion behind this piece of art had spoken to him. Maybe gifting it to him would be a calming, lovely way to end this interlude in her life. A kind of holy closure.
She could only hope.
Blinking back tears, she nodded resolutely and reached into a nearby drawer to retrieve a few sheets of purple tissue paper. Wrapping the piece with care, she tucked it into a shiny, matching gift bag. The lump in her throat threatened to overwhelm, but she swallowed. Hard. Repeatedly. She’d drop by the Inn and drop it off tonight. If he wasn’t in his room, she’d leave it at reception, so he could take it with him when he left.
Evidently, after all these years, she was still a coward.
A vibration, and a buzz, signaled the arrival of an incoming text message. Never had Lillianna been so grateful for techno-intrusion.
Until she realized the missive came from Dustin.
Are you free at sunset tonight? If so, just before the sun goes down, can you meet me at the chapel? I’ll be waiting.
Lillianna’s jaw dropped.
The chapel? He’d be waiting for her? What in the world?
“Hello…? Dustin…?”
Lillianna tip-toed into the chapel, shrouded at once by peace and an instant sense of serenity.
Once she absorbed her surroundings, she gasped.
Brass candle stands were positioned at the end of every other pew, and each stand featured a solitary, freshly lit taper of ivory, a red velvet bow. Subtle vanilla spice filled the air as she moved closer to the sanctuary, where Dustin stood in a church-ready suit and tie, smiling, holding out his hand in welcome.
She trembled, moving at once into his unspoken request for connection. The bag she carried, with Gabriella tucked safely inside, nearly dropped to the floor as she stepped into a dream…
When she approached the sanctuary, the scent of evergreen became more pronounced. There, resting on the wooden railing where Dustin stood, were a set of crystal votives. Within the clear holders, fat green candles came alive with flames that danced and flickered, casting light and shadow against the planes of his face.
Transfixed, compelled, she moved toward him in the silence.
“Thank you
for coming,” he murmured.
“Of course. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed remote since we—”
“Lillianna.”
Just like the other night, like when they had shared their first kisses, he spoke her name in reverence, in love, and she was struck speechless. Her heart thundered. She stuck out the shimmering purple gift bag, nerves thoroughly out of whack. What had happened here? How had these decorations and candles been put into place? What was going on? Was this their farewell? If so, it certainly was gorgeous…heart-wrenching, but gorgeous.
“I have something for you. Before you leave to go back to New York, I want you to have this. It’s a Christmas present. I know you liked it, and appreciate what it means, and I hope you’ll enjoy it for many years to come.”
There she went, babbling again, but she didn’t know what else to do, or what to expect.
Dustin slid the bag strings from her stretched fingertips and took custody, but then he drew her close, pulled her in for a long, tight hug that filled her with warmth, with assurance, with dreams.
“Lillianna, I have something to tell you about New York.”
You’ll be leaving soon, obviously. “What’s that?”
“I’m not going back to New York. At least, not permanently.”
“What?”
His smile spread like sunlight breaking over snow—diamond-sparks, radiance. Gabriella-style joy. “Lillianna, the other day, you asked me a question. You asked me, ‘What’s your dream.’ I want you to know I found the answer.”
“Which is?”
“You. You, first and foremost.”
She could hardly breathe. “What?”
“When it comes to Purple Door, I want to protect the venture, and everything it represents.”
“Of course you do. I know that. We all want—”
“No, Lillianna, let me amend that statement. I’m going to protect this venture by managing it and making it grow as a prominent part of the Purple Door team.”
Love at Christmas Inn Collection 2 Page 22
