by Olivia Miles
“Such a pretty girl,” Aunt Maggie remarked as she came back into the dining room. She gave Nate a knowing smile. “Single, too.”
Nate sighed. Yes, Kara was pretty. Quite pretty. But that wasn’t the point. It was as good a time as any to set some boundaries in his personal life. “Aunt Maggie, we need to talk—”
But his aunt just put a hand on his arm and urgently said, “We do.”
She settled herself onto a dining chair and pulled one out for Nate. She patted its seat and tipped her head in expectation.
Nate glanced anxiously at the clock on the wall. “Isn’t it time for tea?”
“I have more important matters to discuss,” his aunt said gravely, and Nate felt the blood fade from his face. Oh my God, she was dying. She was sick, or something. This was why his parents had insisted he come up here for the holidays.
“What’s going on?” He swallowed hard as he took the seat next to her. He studied her face as she bit at her lip, her eyes darting back and forth, her brow knit with a frown. He braced himself for the worst. For what she would say. What he would do. He’d have to call the cruise ship, find a way to bring his parents back.
“It’s just…” She wrung her hands together fitfully. “It’s just that darn Holiday House contest!” she cried.
Nate felt the last of his air escape him in a rush. He stared at his aunt, who appeared on the verge of tears and finally, after what felt like minutes, blinked. “The what?”
She looked at him imploringly. “The Holiday House contest! It’s Briar Creek’s annual event, and this year marks the twenty-fifth celebration! It’s a huge honor to win. You get a front-page picture in the newspaper.” She gave him a look that told him this should summarize the importance, but he just stared at her. “Every year that Kathleen Madison whips up something over-the-top and takes home the grand prize. And it’s not just for Christmas, I tell you. You should see her in the fall. The second a leaf starts to turn, she’s out there, fiddling with cabbage and kale and mums. Oh, I’ve tried to start earlier and earlier, but there is no way I am going to put out gourds in August, and so sure enough, every year her house transforms, as if overnight, first for fall, then… for the holidays.” She eyed Nate heavily.
This was a lot to take in. Gourds. Kale. Weren’t those things you ate? Nate ran a hand over his face, hedging his response. “So… you want to enter the Holiday House contest?”
His aunt slapped her hands on her knees with such force that Nate jumped. “No, I want to win the Holiday House contest! This year marks the first time there will be a grand prize other than the newspaper feature. It’s because of the twenty-fifth anniversary, you see. If there is a year to win, this is it!”
Nate glanced into the lobby, where a crowd of guests had now gathered, no doubt wanting their tea. Maggie was oblivious to them as she shook her head miserably, burying her forehead in her hand.
“First prize this year gets a front-page picture in the paper, ten thousand dollars, and—”
“Wow.” Nate pulled back against his chair. “Ten thousand dollars? Really?”
His aunt’s expression turned triumphant. “And a write-up in a travel magazine. Henry Birch runs the paper now, but he used to write for the magazine. He’s arranged it all. Can you imagine what that would do for my business?”
Nate could. He could also see just how much this meant to his aunt. “Why don’t you enter then?”
“Oh, but I couldn’t do it all on my own.” She studied him under the hood of her lids.
Nate shrugged and thought, What the hell. What else did he have to do with himself for the next two weeks? “I could help.” How hard could it be to add a bit more garland to the front steps or add another Christmas tree in one of the other rooms in the house?
“Oh, you will? But of course you will!” His aunt leaned forward and gave him a good hard squeeze, and Nate sputtered against the force of her arms. “Oh my,” she said standing, suddenly noticing her audience. “It’s time for tea! Come in, everyone, come in!”
She set two firm hands on Nate’s wrist as he pushed in his chair. “We’ll talk about this later.”
Nate laughed under his breath as he left the room. Crisis averted. His aunt was healthy, and all that silly drama was over a few decorations.
Tea wasn’t really his thing, but a cup of coffee right now sounded delicious. He wondered if the bakery where Kara worked served it. Quickly shrugging into his coat, he hurried out the door to find out.
The bakery was farther up Main Street than he recalled from his drive into town. Nate recognized the pink and white striped awning up ahead and lengthened his stride on the icy sidewalk. The lights were on inside, illuminating a glass display case and peppermint-themed decorations, but the sign on the door read CLOSED, and the door, when he tried it, was locked.
Nate stepped back, lingering for a moment to see if Kara appeared from the back door to what he assumed was the kitchen. He glanced down Main Street, but there was no sign of the red winter coat or the glossy dark hair. Disappointed, he stepped back and walked a block until he came to a diner on the corner. It was cold, and the wind was picking up. Deciding it was here or tea at the inn, which was way too hoity-toity for his comfort level, he pushed through the door, immediately rewarded with the sounds of upbeat holiday tunes and chatter from the crowded room. He followed the smell of coffee, feeling a little out of his element in a room full of people who all seemed to know each other so well, but then he perked up when he recognized the girl standing near the counter.
His heart sped up a notch as he moved quicker to the end of the room, noticing the long legs in black pants, the boots that hit just below her knees.
“We meet again,” he said, coming up to stand next to Kara.
She turned to him, her blue eyes bright with surprise. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, a stark contrast to her porcelain skin, and it heightened the rosy color of her full lips, which parted into a smile. Slow down there, he warned himself. So she was pretty. Wholesome and fresh-faced in a way that made her seem approachable, friendly. Unlike most of the girls he met at bars or through friends or work. It was the small-town thing, he considered. The country air. But there was something else, something different about her than the women he’d met lately. He couldn’t help it. He was curious.
“I’m happy to run into you, actually. I owe you an apology for how I behaved earlier.”
Nate held up a hand. “Consider us even. You did have to face the wrath of Maggie Griffin on account of me.”
Kara smiled. “Oh, she’s not so bad.”
No, she wasn’t. Intense, yes. A little nutty, sure. But she’d been good to him all his life, even though he didn’t see her much. Good to his parents, too. Even though Maggie wasn’t a blood relative, she was his family. He liked that Kara didn’t misunderstand her more difficult side.
He leaned in, close enough to catch a hint of her sweet scent. Vanilla and sugar and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “So, uh, now that she’s out of earshot, level with me. What has she said?”
“About you?” Kara’s blue eyes twinkled. “You mean other than your MBA?” She laughed, and he joined her. “Oh, all good things, Nate. All good things.”
He liked the way she said his name, casually, as if they were old friends. He didn’t have many of those. Growing up, he didn’t have the time. And now he had even less of it.
“Here you go, hon,” a woman said as she slid a paper cup to Kara. “And what’ll it be?” the woman asked Nate.
“Just a coffee,” he said, turning over a mug.
“Aunt Sharon, this is Nate Griffin,” Kara began to explain.
“Maggie’s nephew!” the woman behind the counter exclaimed. Her eyes roamed his face in wonder as she held out her hand. “Pleasure to finally meet this man we’ve heard so much about.”
“All good things, Kara has assured me,” he muttered, internally rolling his eyes at whatever perfect and probably half-false image of himself
his aunt had given over the years.
“Oh, of course.” Sharon grinned. “Well, except…” Seeing the horror that flashed across his face, she leaned over the counter and patted his arm. “Just joking with you. Coffee it is. On the house.”
“Thanks,” Nate said, feeling a little humbled. So many people knew about him, and he couldn’t say the same. He didn’t keep in touch with his aunt, at least not directly. His parents called her and relayed information to him, but that was it. He glanced over his shoulder at the groups of people who seemed to know each other so well, and for a moment he started to realize why his aunt loved this town so much. It was a community. Something he’d never had, or at least not something he’d ever been embraced by. “So, do you know everyone who works here?” he asked Kara when Sharon had moved on to the next customer.
“Well, Sharon’s my aunt. And she owns the place. And I tend to come in here about four times a day for a refill. And some company,” she added, her cheeks pinking a bit more.
“But don’t you own a bakery?” Nate asked.
Kara ripped open the tops of two sweetener packets and stirred their contents into her cup. “Yep.”
He frowned, confused at her simple response. “And you don’t sell coffee there?”
She blinked a few times, seeming taken aback by the question. “Well, it’s a cookie bakery, really. I just make cookies.”
Nate shrugged. “So?”
She pressed the lid onto her cup and turned to him, clutching her coffee with two hands. “So, I make cookies. People come in for cookies.”
Nate stared at her, confused. “Yes, but don’t people want something to drink with their cookies? Coffee seems like the natural choice. Or tea.” Hot chocolate. Something. He tipped his head. “If you serve coffee, they may stay and linger, have an extra cookie. It might seem like small change, but the orders can add up, and so could the revenue.”
Now her face was as red as her coat. Her chin was lifted, her arms crossed, and her gaze hard. “I’m doing just fine, thank you.”
“Yes, but one small change could make a big difference.”
Kara began gathering her handbag. “Perhaps. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Nate said, reaching out a hand to stop her. “I was just trying to help. It seemed like the obvious combination. Cookies and coffee. Cookies and tea…” He grinned, but she didn’t even meet him halfway.
“Well, we can’t all have MBAs, can we?” Kara asked brusquely. She waved to her aunt as the woman poured his coffee, and before he could register what had just happened, she was walking through the door.
“Cream and sugar?” Sharon asked as Nate dropped onto a stool.
“Sure,” he said absentmindedly.
Sharon slid him the bowl. “You should check out the bakery on your way back to the inn. Best cookies in town!”
Nate grunted a response and brought the mug to his lips. Something told him stopping by the bakery wasn’t such a good idea today, but he’d find out what time Kara planned to bring over the inn’s delivery tomorrow. And he’d be waiting.
CHAPTER 4
Molly flicked through a tabloid she’d bought at the bus station yesterday afternoon and tossed it to the side. She’d hoped the glossy cover with the promise of celebrity gossip would distract her from this growing knot in her stomach, but all it had done was make her restless and agitated.
She should have known there would be questions last night when she’d made the big announcement, hoping she sounded more convinced than she felt. But of course everyone wanted to know where Todd was, would he be joining them for the holidays? And she had to go and lie and tell them he was working over the holidays—a big case and all—and chivalrous guy that he was, he’d told her to go ahead and enjoy a few weeks in her hometown.
The truth was that Todd was enjoying a few weeks of his own, on a ski trip in the Alps with his buddies. A trip she’d encouraged him to take. A trip she’d pushed for, even when he’d suggested joining her in Briar Creek instead. She’d told him he deserved a little fun, that absence would make the heart grow fonder. But so far, their time apart was only making her second-guess her future more than ever before.
Molly tossed the magazine across the bed and frowned. Honestly, this was crazy talk! Todd was everything she’d dreamed of when she was a little girl. Everything she pictured when she wrote her monthly article for the bridal magazine. Tall, dark, dashing… He was perfect, really.
Just as perfect as the three-carat brilliant-cut stone on a platinum band she now wore on her left hand ever since the day she’d picked it out, with his input of course, even if his contribution had been more of the reaching for the credit card variety.
Molly twisted the engagement ring on her finger. She had to admit, it was pretty, and she did like wearing it, but when she looked at it, all she saw was a nice piece of jewelry, hardly the sentiment she should be feeling right now. Hardly the sentiment of a blushing bride-to-be.
She pulled another magazine from the stack, hoping this would do the trick, trying to visualize herself walking down the aisle, committing to Todd forever.
She closed her eyes, but the image did not come, at least not easily. And her stomach started that twisting, queasy, nauseous churn it did every time she thought about what she was doing. Was she really going to go through with this?
She shook her head. Of course she was. So they’d had problems. So he hadn’t been the most faithful early in their relationship. Yes, he’d taken a year away. But then he’d realized he missed her. Decided that she was the one. That he couldn’t live without her. Those were his words! He couldn’t live without her.
Once she had thought she couldn’t live without him. But now…
She closed her eyes and replayed his words from the day he came back to her, proposed to her… It was so unexpected. So shocking. She’d dreamed of that moment, never thinking it would happen, and then there he was. Apologizing. Promising. It was really romantic when she stopped to think about it…
She hurried through the last few pages of the magazine. She just had cold feet. A common problem with their readers… One she could recognize and expertly handle.
Molly shut the magazines into a drawer and threw herself back down against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. It was only late afternoon, but it was already dark. She hated this time of year. It made her tired long before it should, and she still had things to do before her mother got home from the dance studio. She’d promised to get the giant nutcrackers set up in the front hall, anchoring the front door, and then one character per stair, all the way up to the landing, so the judges would have a “feast for the eyes” when they entered the house. Where her mother had found those dolls, Molly would never know, but they sort of creeped her out, not that she’d tell her mother that. Rosemary Hastings had a vision, and just like with her dance studio, Molly knew better than to argue. Besides, it would keep her busy.
Really, did she not want to marry Todd? Did she want to throw away a candlelit Valentine’s Day wedding and all the roses that would go along with it? She’d written on the subject enough times to know that you did not walk away from a handsome man with a summer house and a damn good job, all because your tummy hurt at night when you started thinking about the future and all its unknowns.
She’d have to be a fool to turn down a proposal laced with all those possibilities.
Molly hauled herself out of her bedroom and went down to the front hall, where boxes of decorations were just waiting to be cracked open. Most her mother would want to do herself, to be sure it was done right, but a few things Molly could handle. She started with the creepy dolls, drawing special fascination from the Mouse King, with its beady eyes and scratchy whiskers.
Soon, the toys were arranged as instructed. Well, that took all of ten minutes, Molly thought with a frustrated sigh. She peeked into another box, knowing better than to get a start—her mother had very particular ide
as, and apparently this year’s contest was more important than previous ones. Honestly, Molly wasn’t even sure why her mother was bothering. Everyone knew Kathleen Madison was going to win, as she did every year she entered. But who was she to argue…
Besides, if her mother let her help, it would give her something else to focus on. Something other than the fact that Todd, her fiancé, had called twice that morning and she had yet to call him back. He didn’t even know that she’d set a date.
A date that was close. A date that didn’t allow for doubt.
A date she wasn’t sure she could stick to.
The arrogance of that man! Kara was still reeling from her conversation with Nate Griffin—who clearly liked to boast about his MBA as much as his aunt did—when Molly pushed through the bakery doors.
The storefront was quiet. Only a group of mothers and toddlers sat near the corner, and they’d be leaving soon. The youngest boy had already dropped his sugar cookie to the floor and then stomped all over it during a tantrum. Kara was eager to sweep up the mess and get back to the kitchen. She had four gingerbread kits to finish before she could go home, and she also needed to work on the finished houses she’d be selling at the Holiday Bazaar.
“I was going to stop by the house for dinner tonight,” Kara said. “Unless you’d rather grab a bite together.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Mom needs my help for the Holiday House contest. Fair warning, if you come by, she’ll put you to work.”
The thought of doing more work on her night off made her almost want to come up with an excuse, but Kara just shrugged her shoulders. It would be fun to help decorate the house. It might help put her in the Christmas spirit, and she did want to spend more time with her sister before she went back to Boston.
Boston. Just thinking about the city made her think of Nate. Nate with his big degree and his even bigger opinions.
She’d switched majors four times. She’d switched jobs plenty more times than that.
She lowered her voice and leaned across the counter to Molly. “Do you think I should be selling coffee?”
