Mistletoe and Mochas: A Christmas Romance Novella (Hearts of Hollywood Book 2)

by Lynnette Bonner

  Her chest felt like molten lead had just been poured into it.

  There was no future for them.

  Chapter 10

  “Earth to Chelsea…”

  Chelsea pulled herself from her morose thoughts and blinked at how close Cannon was to her face.

  His brows furrowed in concern. “You okay? You were really gone there for a few seconds.”

  She rubbed her arms. “What are we doing here, Cannon?”

  He stepped back. “We’re spending some time together. Getting to know each other better.” He lifted the small paper bag full of brown deliciousness. “Having chestnuts. Enjoying Christmas lights and music…”

  “Yes, but, why?” She threw her hands up and strode several steps down the walk before she turned to face him again. “There can never be an us, can there?” Her finger darted a gesture from herself to him and back again. “You have your work and I have mine and…” She blinked hard. She couldn’t believe she’d started blurting all this seemingly out of the blue. The poor guy probably didn’t know what had just hit him. “I just don’t see how we can make it work.” Defeat coated every syllable of the words.

  Something caught his attention down the walk a ways.

  She glanced behind her to see what had snagged his interest, but all she saw was a couple strolling hand in hand under a Christmas-light-bedecked awning.

  Purposely, Cannon folded the top of the bag of nuts closed and shoved it in his pocket. He gave her a warm look, then took her hand and gently but firmly urged her to follow him.

  “So we’re just not going to talk about this?”

  He stopped very suddenly and spun toward her. Momentum plastered her against his chest with her forearms resting against the warmth of his jacket. He was quick to catch her to him as though trying to keep her from falling, but by the slight uplift of the corners of his lips, and the gleam that leapt to life in his eyes, she suddenly had a feeling the golden boy had known exactly what he was doing.

  He turned her until her back was to the stone wall of the little store he’d stopped in front of. “Oh, we’re going to talk about it, but first there’s something else I’d like to do.” His gaze slipped over her features from the consternation tugging at her brows to the teeth she was working over her lower lip.

  Her knees went weak and she was glad for the solidity of the wall pressing into her shoulder blades. She found the strength to ask. “What in the world are you talking about?”

  Cannon leaned down until his face invaded her personal space.

  “Cannon…” She tried to come up with something else to say, but her gaze had disobeyed her and settled on his mouth, and that had sapped all her will to protest. It was a nice mouth. One that was smiling softly as slowly the span between them disintegrated. He was not going to let her weasel her way out of this one. Oh how her traitorous heart was beating. “Cannon.” Her hands somehow found the strength to apply counter-pressure to his chest.

  He stilled only a fraction of an inch away.

  She could feel the warmth of his breath caressing her lips with tantalizing clarity. She swallowed away the desire to just give in to him. All of Aunt Flo’s assessments washed over her in that moment. What did a guy like Cannon want with a girl like her? “What are you doing?”

  The soft smile bloomed into a bigger one touched with uncertainty. “Well, I know I’m out of practice, but I’d hoped it was pretty obvious.” His gaze darted to her mouth once more before rebounding to meet hers.

  “We can’t,” she breathed. She wanted to snatch the words back the moment she uttered them. She wanted it so badly that her hands tightened around a fistful of his coat in case he took her at her word and pulled away.

  But he didn’t. Instead his lazy, self-assured smile was back. “Oh but we can. In fact, we sort of have to.” One brow arched as if to challenge her to ask him why.

  Brow furrowing, she accepted the challenge. “Why?”

  He angled a look upward, touching her chin with one hand and guiding her to do the same. “Because we are standing under mistletoe.”

  Her heart thudded against her breastbone. “Cannon we really can’t—”

  One of his thumbs settled over her lips and he tilted her a questioning look. “Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you and I’ll back away right now. But you have to promise to tell me the truth.” Slowly his thumb released its seal, trailed a warm caress across her jaw, and continued down the column of her throat to rest at her pulse point. His gaze never wavered as he pressed his forehead to hers. “Talk to me, Chels.”

  In that moment she lost the battle and threw all caution to the wind. She tilted her head and met his lips with her own. She felt his moment of hesitation, and then he cradled both sides of her face and took control.

  If she thought she’d been glad for the wall behind her before, she was even more so now. Her hands curled into the softness of his down coat and pulled him closer. His lips moved across hers slowly, surely, confidently. He slipped one arm behind her while his other hand settled at the base of her neck, and for just a moment the world around them disappeared into oblivion. In that moment everything was right with the world and all her cares slipped away.

  All too soon, Cannon eased back.

  She pulled in a tremulous breath and with it all her concerns about their relationship came rushing once more to the fore. What had she done? She’d just made things infinitely harder for them when the time came for him to return home.

  Cannon must have seen the weight of that thought in her expression because he curved both hands around her face and looked her right in the eyes. “I don’t know how we are going to work this relationship out, Chelsea. But I know I want to and I know we can. If you want to?”

  Oh how she wanted to. She just wasn’t sure if she believed they could work it out. “Cannon, I want to. I’m just not sure I can do a long distance relationship.” She didn’t add anything about her worry over her suitability to keep him happy.

  “I have something to tell you.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders and directed them down the sidewalk.

  “Oh?”

  “For the past year, even before you and the team came out for that building trip, I’ve had this realization growing inside me that God was about to make some changes in my life. I wasn’t sure what those were, but could feel it coming. The feeling is hard to explain really. I’ve just sort of felt like my time in Africa would be coming to an end soon.”

  Chelsea held her breath, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. Her heart hammered against her ribcage.

  “Well, you know how Pastor Chad pulled me aside after Bible study the other night, and you asked me if everything was alright?”

  She nodded, not daring to speak for fear of breaking some magical spell.

  “Well, he asked me if I would consider coming home to be the general contractor on the church’s new building. They are set to break ground in late February and their contractor just had to back out on them a couple weeks ago.”

  Chelsea couldn’t contain her excitement any longer. She jumped in front of him and put her hand on his chest to stop him. She could feel a grin stretching from one side of her face to the other. “You might move here? What did you tell him?”

  “Well, I told him my decision would be based on some other things I needed to find out first.” He cocked one eyebrow at her.

  He meant them! She felt a bit dizzy at the sudden turn of events. Giddy with happiness. “Oh, Cannon, really?”

  He touched her cheek. “You were my reason for coming here. And I want you to be my reason to stay.”

  She would love to be his reason for anything, but suddenly she was trembling all over. Some scary emotion that she couldn’t quite pin down coursed through her. What? She spun away from him and strode several steps, then stopped and looked at the sidewalk. Why was she suddenly quite terrified? This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? The chance at a life with Cannon?

  It might be good for now, Chelse
a Anne, but it will never last.

  The voice was so assuredly Aunt Flo’s that she gasped.

  Cannon was by her side in an instant. “What is it, Chels?” He bent down, peering into her face, concern etching his features.

  She gritted her teeth. Stepped to one side to allow a group of tourists to pass.

  It was a family of four. A father, mother and two children, one boy and one girl. As the family passed between Cannon and Chelsea, the boy leaned close to his sister, said something in her ear, and poked her in the side.

  “Mom!” the little girl cried, “Steve keeps telling me I’m uglier than the Grinch!”

  “Steven Jameson Shorewood!” The father’s tone left no room for misinterpretation. “Come here, son.”

  The boy slumped toward his father who led him off to one side and bent to speak to him, but the mother paused right on the sidewalk next to Chelsea and bent down to peer into her daughter’s face. “Honey, all your life there will be people who lie to you about yourself. In magazines. On TV. They’ll say you aren’t pretty enough. Aren’t smart enough. Aren’t rich enough. Steven shouldn’t have said that to you. But now that he did say it, you have a choice to make. Are you going to believe it? Or are you going to brush it aside and remember what Daddy and I tell you every day? That you are a beautiful little girl, perfect just the way you are, and we love you very much?”

  A warm presence invaded Chelsea’s chest and the woman’s words whispered through her and wrapped themselves around her heart, urging her to pay attention.

  The little girl scuffed her shoe against the sidewalk. “I’m beautiful and perfect just the way I am.”

  “That’s right!” The mother pulled her into an embrace and then started them down the walk once more. “Now tell me what happened to make Steve angry? You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?”

  Their voices faded into the Christmas music, and Chelsea lifted her gaze to Cannon who was still standing exactly where she’d left him only a moment ago. She was trembling even more now, but for a different reason. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God had sent that family right to this exact spot on the sidewalk to speak directly to her. The little girl might never remember her mother giving her words of truth in the little town of Leavenworth, Washington in the years to come, but Chelsea Tan would never forget.

  She had a choice. Was she going to believe Aunt Flo’s constant recriminations? Or was she going to believe God’s Word that said she was beautiful, special, created in God’s image. Was she going to believe Aunt Flo who said she would never be good enough for any man? Or Cannon who said she was the one he wanted to get to know?

  Tears pricked her eyes. “Oh, Cannon!” Two steps and she threw herself into his arms and buried her face in his neck.

  His arms came around her hesitantly. “Chels, I have to admit I’m a little confused here.” He chuckled softly.

  She pulled back, sniffed, studied his face. “It’s okay, because I can explain.”

  He cocked on eyebrow, waiting for the explanation.

  “Did you hear what that mother said to her daughter?”

  He nodded.

  “God sent that family here just for me tonight, Cannon. All my life Aunt Flo has told me I’m not good enough, pretty enough, this enough, that enough. That no man could ever love me so I should just be ready to live my life alone. That terrifies me when it comes to you, Cannon. I have to admit to having doubts about why a guy like you would even be interested in me.”

  “Chelsea, you are so special I don’t even know where to begin telling you what you mean to me. You are beautiful… Intelligent… Kind… And anyone who would tell you otherwise, well—” A muscle bunched up along his jaw.

  “I know, Cannon. I know that here.” She touched her temple. “But I need to learn to know it here.” She laid a hand over her heart. “I need to make the choice to believe it. To trust God…and you…and anyone really.”

  He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Not just anyone, Chels. Only those who speak Truth. You have to compare it to God’s Word. That’s the measure.”

  She smiled, her heart suddenly so full of emotion for this man who put God first in all his decisions. “I’m going to try, Cannon. But I know it’s not going to be easy.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll be happy to practice with you until you get it right.”

  She tilted him a look. “So are you really considering moving here? Leaving Africa?”

  He grinned and tucked her closer. “I really am, but my decision comes down to whether this one beautiful, intelligent, kind woman wants to have me in her life.”

  Warmth spread through her. “Oh, she does, Cannon. She really does.”

  He grinned. “I’m very happy to hear that!” He tugged the bag of chestnuts from his pocket and shook it open, holding it out towards her.

  She took a few and they ambled down the sidewalk in silence. Chelsea reveled at the lightness she felt in her chest. God you are too good to me!

  All too soon the magical night came to an end and they realized they needed to get started on their two hour drive back to Seattle. But Chelsea was determined that she was returning home a different person than when she left.

  It was nearly one a.m. when Cannon dropped her off at her car in the coffee shop parking lot. She yawned expansively and dug for her keys.

  He gave her a sheepish look. “I didn’t mean to keep you out so late. I know your morning shift is going to come way too early.”

  She waved away his concern. “It’s a coffee shop. I’ll just live on triple espressos tomorrow.”

  He laughed. “And then not be able to sleep tomorrow night.”

  “Oh yeah.” She scrunched up her nose. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea.”

  “Well, either way, I’ll be by first thing to grab a mocha.”

  Her heart was already misbehaving at the thought.

  Chapter 11

  The next morning Chelsea felt like she’d been run over by the Sounder Train. Every muscle in her body begged for more sleep even as she forced herself to climb into her car and turn over the key. Even after getting home so late, she’d lain awake in bed simply reveling in the warm feeling of knowing, and choosing to believe, that Cannon cared for her. She didn’t know what time she’d finally closed her eyes, but it obviously hadn’t been soon enough.

  Ugh. She needed a triple shot. At least. And first thing, or she’d never be able to function today. Traffic was slower than usual and she hit every red light on the way, fighting sleep at each one. Finally, she pulled into the parking lot and mechanically locked her car and dug out the shop keys. Dawn was just beginning to outline the street’s buildings into dark shadows against pink light.

  A yawn stretched her jaw as she pushed her way into the store. She froze. Aunt Flo was already bustling back and forth behind the counter. When was the last time Aunt Flo had been by this early? She couldn’t remember. “Aunt Flo, what are you doing here?”

  Her aunt kept her back to her. “I’ve put all your things from the office into a box. You’ll see it there to the left of the door. Please leave your keys to the shop and take your things. You don’t work here anymore.”

  Chelsea’s jaw dropped. “What?”

  Aunt Flo spun toward her, propping one rag-filled hand against her hip. “You think you can just defy me like you did yesterday, young lady, and not have to face any consequences? I’ve always known you were ungrateful for everything I’ve done for you. But I can’t believe you would repay me for all the years of sacrifice I’ve given for you by leaving the shop on its own as if all of this means nothing to you.” She swung the rag around to indicate the interior of the store.

  “I didn’t leave the shop on its own! I left a very capable person in charge of closing up. For one night! One.”

  “Oh!” Aunt Flo flipped the rag at her, dismissively, and then turned her back and set to polishing the already sparkling side of the mixer. “I might have known you’
d refuse any teaching and only see things your way! You’ve gone off the deep end, Chelsea. Gone off!” She swept up the bag of muffin mix and dumped it into the mixer. “First that poor boy, Ted. And now running off with this, this, stranger from who knows where and leaving the shop in the lurch.”

  Chelsea gritted her teeth. I will not respond. I. Will. Not. Respond.

  “Irresponsible and ungrateful. That’s what it comes down to! And I won’t have it anymore.”

  The words hit Chelsea like a physical blow. She closed her eyes. Dredged up the words the mother from Leavenworth had spoken to her little girl the night before. Jesus, help me to choose to believe You.

  What should she do?

  Aunt Flo had the gallon of milk in her hand, but paused to read the recipe on the side of the muffin mix.

  “It’s two cups, Aunt Flo. And four eggs. And a cup of oil.” She stepped behind the counter. “Please let me help you?”

  Jaw set, Aunt Flo sloshed milk into the measuring cup. “You made your choice last night on the phone. You can leave your keys on the desk.”

  Chelsea rubbed her forehead and glanced around the interior of the shop. She couldn’t believe this was happening, and yet, in some way she supposed she’d feared it might happen for years. Aunt Flo had never been pleased with the work she’d done no matter how hard she’d tried to please her. Slowly, she removed the shop keys from her ring and walked them into the back room.

  The office was empty of all her things. No pictures on the walls or desk. She’d even packed away the framed picture of the two of them on Chelsea’s graduation day. Chelsea had always loved that picture. Aunt Flo had seemed different that day. She’d seemed like someone who actually cared and was proud of Chelsea’s accomplishment. The picture had been snapped as they’d been standing under the shade of a pine tree in their back yard, while Aunt Flo was pinning a corsage onto her dress just before the graduation ceremony. They’d both been smiling.