by Olivia Miles
“It’s not silly. You have happy memories. What’s not to enjoy?” He looked down at his cocoa. “Is peppermint in everything in this town?”
Kara laughed. “Well, it is Christmas. But I can take it off if you’d like.”
“No,” he said, taking a sip. “It’s growing on me. Like some other things.” He held her gaze, and Kara’s heart skipped a beat.
She looked away, shaking aside the ripple of excitement that charged through her chest. “I’ll get the ornaments.”
She left him to finish the lights, hurrying to her bedroom closet, where she stowed most of her personal belongings. The box was small, on the top shelf, and she found it quickly. Pulling it down, she began to walk back into the living room and then hesitated, briefly, to check her reflection in the mirror above her dresser and add a touch more lip gloss.
Ridiculous. So they enjoyed each other’s company. The guy was probably passing time. Looking for an excuse to get a break from the inn and his aunt’s demands for a few hours.
Except… the look in his eyes when she rounded the corner into the living room told her he might not be looking for an excuse at all. His gaze was direct, hooded and penetrating, and Kara felt a shift between them. Her pulse skittered with anticipation.
“Found them!” she announced, crossing the room to stand next to him. He reached for the box, his hands skimming hers, and locked her eyes for a beat. Kara felt her cheeks flush and swallowed hard.
She glanced at the flames flickering in the fireplace. “My, it’s getting warm in here. I think I’ll turn down the heat.”
Nate gave her a curious look. “Feels fine to me.”
“Does it?” Kara asked weakly. “Must be the hot chocolate.” And the fact that she couldn’t recall ever feeling this way in a man’s company. Most of the dates she’d had were polite and a little stiff, but certainly not exciting, and certainly not interesting enough to make her all giddy and nervous.
But then, this wasn’t a date. And she’d best remember that.
They hung the ornaments, each taking a turn, their hands brushing the other’s as they reached into the box, and Kara scooted past him, feeling her hip brush his thigh as she hung the last of them on the tree. She nearly tripped over the velvet tree skirt, and Nate reflexively reached out and grabbed her by the waist. His hands felt strong and secure wrapped around her body.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice warm and husky.
She nodded and finally managed, “I told you this place is cramped.”
His hands lingered on her waist before he finally released her, and she turned to him, seeing the hooded look of his eyes, sensing the possibility of something she was beginning to long for.
She cleared her throat, her nerves getting the better of her, and gestured to the strand of lights. “You may now do the lights,” she said gallantly.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, may I? You sure? No more traditions that need to take place? No mistletoe or star—”
“The star!” She’d been so caught up in Nate’s company, she’d almost forgotten the most precious part of her holiday. Kara clapped her hand over her mouth and darted back into her bedroom, quickly reemerging with the box holding her Christmas star. She opened the lid and gingerly lifted out the glittery gold star. “I’ve had this for as long as I can remember.”
Nate stepped forward and inspected the object. “Did you make this?”
Kara nodded, feeling her throat knot as hot tears welled. “It doesn’t look like much, but it means the world. There was one Christmas where we were snowed in for days, couldn’t leave the house, and it was too cold to even go sledding. My dad put us all to work making ornaments for the tree, even though we already had boxes of them in the attic. I made little snowmen from cotton balls, Molly made some felt elves. My dad made this.”
She blinked quickly, but it was no use. A single tear trickled down her cheek as she met Nate’s gaze. He was frowning at her, but there was softness in his eyes as he reached up and slowly wiped her face with the pad of his thumb.
“Then our tree wouldn’t be complete without it.”
She smiled. There was that word again. Our tree. She could get used to that.
She held the star gently in her hands, wondering what had become of Molly’s elves, if any had been saved over the years. Though she knew Molly had fine-tuned her wedding registry long before she was ever actually engaged, Kara wanted to give her something special and sentimental. She made a silent promise to herself to look through the attic next time she was at her mother’s house.
Nate took her hand as she climbed onto one of the Windsor chairs from her dining table and then moved his hands down to her legs as she secured the star to its branch. Year after year, a little bit of glitter fell off, and she was careful to preserve as much of it as she could, taking her time with the placement to ensure it wouldn’t fall off. It was just made of cardboard, but a dent would be devastating.
“I almost have it,” she said.
“No rush,” Nate said, his voice low and deep and—dare she say slightly suggestive? She had been so fixated on the star that she hadn’t paid attention, but now she noticed the way his hands gripped her legs, the way they moved this way and that, as if exploring her, caressing her even.
“There. All done.” She hopped off the chair, landing dangerously close to his body.
“Anything else?” His mouth quirked, and she fixated on it for a moment, wondering what he tasted like, how he felt.
“Just one more thing,” she said. “When you turn on the lights, you have to make your Christmas wish.”
He chuckled as he bent down and connected the strand to the socket. Immediately the tree sprang to life, lighting up the room in a warm glow, reflecting off the ornaments that now shone and glistened, her father’s star glittering at the very top.
“Beautiful,” she sighed, taking it all in.
“It is.”
Kara had been so lost in the magnificence of the tree that she hadn’t even realized Nate was watching her. Now the hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she looked over to him, her breath catching at the look in his eyes.
“Did you make your Christmas wish?” she asked.
She assumed he’d laugh it off, but instead he nodded once. “I did. And how about you? What’s your Christmas wish?”
She swallowed hard, steeling herself from that unreadable expression, from the jumping jacks in her stomach. “Oh, for my bakery to succeed,” Kara said. But that wasn’t true. Not entirely, at least. What she really wished for was for this—what she had right here, right now—to continue, just a little longer, past Christmas. “And yours?”
He leaned forward, closing the distance between their bodies, as his hand came around her waist. Kara inhaled sharply and felt the pull of his strength as she set a hand on his chest, feeling the steady drum under his sweater.
“This,” he whispered, slowly bringing his mouth to hers. His kiss was light, gentle, and heat pooled deep between her thighs as his mouth opened to hers. His tongue laced with hers, exploring her, bringing her deeper as he pulled her tight. Kara reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting their bodies fuse together, pressing the length of herself against the hard plane of his chest.
He pulled back slowly, looking into her eyes as a lopsided smile tugged at his mouth.
“And we didn’t even need the mistletoe,” she whispered.
“What can I say?” Nate said. “This is shaping up to be the best Christmas yet.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Kara said through a smile as her lips found his once more.
CHAPTER 15
Molly opened the oven door and set a tray of sugar cookies in the oven. She carefully set the timer—something she’d forgotten to do with the last batch—and then turned to her sister. “What else can I help with?”
Kara gave her a tired smile. “I feel guilty. I should really be the one helping you!”
“With what?” Molly asked, frow
ning.
Her sister stared at her in disbelief. “Your wedding, of course!”
Oh. That. Molly brought a wooden spoon to her mouth and licked the sticky and sweet batter from it. “It’s okay,” she said. “You know I’ve had it planned for years anyway. Besides, I feel like we made a lot of progress and it’s only been a week. I took Mom over to the stationery store to the see the invitations. She liked the same ones we did, but I let her think she persuaded me.”
Kara laughed. “Any more luck with her present this year?”
Molly set the spoon back in the bowl and brought them both to the sink. “Nope. Have you given it any more thought?”
Kara expertly piped some royal icing on the roof of a gingerbread house she was making for the school librarian. “Oh, I was thinking a candle. Maybe a picture frame…” She met Molly’s gaze, and both girls winced. “It should be the thought that counts, right?”
“It should,” Molly agreed. “But Mom can sometimes be hard to please.”
“Tell me about it.” Kara sighed, and her brow pinched as she concentrated on her task. “Has she… said anything to you about the bakery?”
“This place?” Molly thought back. Most of her conversations with her mom had been about The Nutcracker or the wedding. The wedding. Just the thought of it made her stomach knot. She set a hand to it, trying to settle herself. “Not really. Why?”
“Oh, no reason,” Kara said, but her voice was abnormally high, and Molly wasn’t buying that fake nonchalance.
“You’re doing a great job,” she said, coming to set a hand on Kara’s shoulder. She watched as her sister’s hands worked, swiftly and expertly, until the last piece of the house was complete. She stared at the finished creation, marveling in the details, a flicker of pride mixing with those same old doubts. “I’m really impressed. You have a lot more going for you than I do.”
She looked away from the house, wondering what she had to show for herself. Certainly not a beautiful bakery, or a happy customer, or a gorgeous gingerbread house.
She glanced down at her finger. She had a diamond ring. And a gift registry. And a perpetually upset stomach.
“Me?” Kara set the piping bag down and stared at her sister. “You’re the one who’s getting married.”
Molly sighed. “I suppose I’m just anxious about taking time off work,” she fibbed. “Thanks for letting me help out today. It keeps me busy. And it’s a nice break from decorating the house. Speaking of which…” She walked over to the corner of the room where she knew Kara was keeping her entry, but her sister darted to stop her, using her arms to barricade her.
“Nope. Sorry, not until it’s finished.”
“Top secret, huh?” Molly just smiled. “You’re really not going to let anyone see it until then?”
“Well…” Kara’s cheeks flushed, and she pushed past Molly, not meeting her eye, as she began wrapping the gingerbread house in cellophane.
Molly turned, watching her sister in suspicion. “Well… well, what? Don’t tell me you let someone else see your creation and not your favorite sister!”
“You’re my only sister,” Kara commented, giving a rueful smile. “Besides, I didn’t do it on purpose. It just happened. Nate stopped by and—”
“Nate?” Molly cocked an eyebrow as she leaned a hip against the counter. “Mrs. Griffin’s nephew?”
Kara took her time cinching the plastic wrap and securing it with a bright green bow. A stall tactic, Molly surmised.
Finally, Kara turned to her. “That’s right. We’ve been… spending some time together. He’s… very nice.”
Molly was nodding her head, eyeing the nervous twitch in her sister’s gaze. “Nice…”
Kara wiped her hands on her apron and huffed out a breath. “That’s right. He’s very nice. He brought me soup—”
Molly felt her eyes widen. “He brought you soup.”
“I was sick,” Kara explained hurriedly.
“He brought you soup when you were sick,” Molly said slowly. She couldn’t hide her smile any longer. For as long as she could remember, she was the one always falling too hard and too fast for every guy who gave her a second glance, and Kara… well, Kara didn’t fall hard at all. Until, perhaps, now. She felt a sting of something sharp. Jealousy, she realized. And happiness, too, of course. Kara deserved to find someone special. They both did. “He certainly does sound nice. Cute, too.” She remembered the thick brown hair and warm eyes from Anna and Mark’s party.
Kara just gave a casual shrug. “You think so? Maybe. I never really noticed.”
Molly stared at her sister, watched as she washed a dish, then set it to dry, her back purposefully to the room, her cheeks still on fire.
“You kissed him!” she cried in delight.
Kara whipped around, but the look in her eyes said it all. “What? What are you talking about?”
Molly waved a playful finger at her. “Kara Hastings, you can’t lie to me. I know you too well. Besides, don’t you want to dish the dirt?”
“Dish the dirt?” Kara scoffed.
“You know, tell me how it was. Was it good? I bet it was good.” Molly blinked rapidly as she chewed her thumbnail.
Kara gave her a long, hard look, her hands on her hips, but Molly wasn’t backing down. Finally, Kara’s mouth curved into a small, knowing smile. “It was good,” she whispered, and then laughed.
Molly giggled and clapped her hands. “I knew it! When did this happen? What’s going on? Are you going to see him again?”
Kara dropped onto one of the stools clustered around the kitchen island. “You’re asking every question I’m thinking. The guy lives in Boston…”
“So? So do I! You can visit me more often.”
Kara pulled a face. “I have this bakery. You see how much time it takes. I’m in no position to be leaving town for weekends, and I don’t even know if that’s what Nate is looking for. It was just a kiss. A nice kiss. Who knows if it will even happen again.”
“Do you want it to happen again?” Molly asked, reaching for one of the cookies she’d slightly burned earlier.
Kara gave her a slow grin. “Do I ever.”
The oven timer buzzed, and Molly snatched an oven mitt. She smiled as she pulled the cookies from the oven, but her heart felt a little heavy. She was happy for her sister, of course she was. After all, she’d had how many boyfriends over the years while Kara… Kara never seemed to find anyone that sent her heart aflutter.
And now, well, now the situation was a little reversed. And could you really marry someone who didn’t make your pulse skip a beat at least every once in a while?
Molly didn’t think so. And that… that was a problem.
Kara stopped and counted to three in an effort to steady her racing heart before she turned the door of the Main Street B&B. It was a busy day at the bakery, but Molly had offered to handle the counter so that Kara wouldn’t be in any rush from her errand. In fact, Molly had encouraged her to take all the time she needed, with a suggestive grin.
Kara glanced around the lobby, which had slowly transformed day by day, holding her breath as she swept her gaze for a hint of nut-brown hair and a smile that could thaw the snow right off her boots.
But all she saw were a few guests and, to her slight dismay, Mrs. Griffin.
“Well, there you are!” the innkeeper said, pushing past a box of decorations to greet Kara near the door. “It’s hard to believe the holidays are already nearing an end. I’ve gotten used to having you pop by each day.”
“I’ve looked forward to it quite a bit,” Kara said, even if her motives might have been more centered on Mrs. Griffin’s handsome nephew. Her chest squeezed when she realized just how quickly the time was passing. Christmas was now just around the corner, coming to an end right when she was finally starting to enjoy the holidays.
“I have to say, these snowflake cookies have been quite a hit for my holiday tea.”
Kara smiled, grateful for the compliment. “I suppose C
hristmas Eve will be your last holiday tea?” It had been a steady gig, one she had benefited from greatly, and another reminder that the holiday rush was almost behind her and that business would surely slow when it did.
Valentine’s Day would be popular, she knew. She already had some ideas for her menu then. But she had to brace herself for a slow January. And possibly a few other months throughout the year, too.
She thought about Nate’s comments on her pricing. She probably could have charged a bit more for those gingerbread houses—she hadn’t really assessed what was fair or what people were willing to pay. She didn’t want to take advantage, but they did consume a fair bit of time. She’d definitely raise the price a bit next year. If she was still in business by then.
“Yes, Christmas Eve is the last tea of the season,” Maggie sighed. “Makes me a little sad, honestly.” Her eyes turned a bit misty for a moment, but as Kara’s frown grew, Mrs. Griffin straightened her shoulders and gave a quick smile. “Well, I shouldn’t take up too much of your time. This must be a busy time of year for you.”
“It is,” Kara agreed. “And I still have the Holiday House contest entry to finish.”
Mrs. Griffin’s expression turned quizzical. “The entry? Are you decorating your apartment?”
“No, I…” Kara hesitated, wondering why Nate hadn’t mentioned his challenge to his aunt before. “I’m entering a gingerbread house, actually.”
“A gingerbread house!” Maggie’s green eyes were wide in astonishment. “How perfectly clever.” She gathered her hands into fists near her chest, her eyes darting to the left.
“It was Nate’s idea, actually,” Kara said, wanting to give fair credit where it was due.
Mrs. Griffin’s snapped to hers. “Nate? My nephew Nate?”
Kara nodded. “That’s right. I teased him about helping out with your entry, and he sort of dared me to do it. I’m glad he did,” she added, smiling to herself. She planned to work on her project tonight, considering she’d be busy with her friends at the Winter Festival tomorrow. It was a big event in Briar Creek, and one she hadn’t missed in all her life. One of many traditions that made her love this town so much.
