He leaned down, his lips a hair’s breadth from her neck. His warm breath tickled her skin as he drew in her scent.
She closed her eyes and tried not to remember how wonderful his lips had felt against hers. Her heart fluttered—something that had only ever happened with him. She’d missed it... that little zip to her system that being around him always produced.
His lips were so close to hers that she could almost taste them.
It was his turn to linger longer than was socially acceptable. He seemed to come to his senses and step back. “Shall we go?”
“Sure.” Her eyes fluttered open. The moment was gone, and she tried not to feel disappointed. They were just friends. She didn’t want anything more. Accept that she’d wanted to kiss him and he’d deliberately passed on the opportunity.
This was going to be more complicated than she’d thought. They had to stay friends. She couldn’t go through losing him again.
Chapter 13
Nick wanted to kick himself. He’d had the opportunity to kiss her, and he’d let it slip away. He put his hand in the small of her back and led her down the stairs.
Outside, it was in the forties, but he didn’t care. He was glad to have given her his coat. Right now, it was probably the only thing she’d take from him.
There was so much they needed to talk about. There was so much he needed to tell her. But he couldn’t get the image of her crying over him out of his head. If she didn’t choose to stay here, she would die of cancer. It felt like he’d already lived an eternity without her, he wasn’t interested in going for another.
Staying here had to be her decision. It was time for a little faith.
He led her into the inn’s lobby.
“And where are you two kids headed?” It was a woman who had to be at least ninety. He remembered her from the bus. She was the one who’d clutched her purse to her chest like he was about to take it from her.
“Hello, Mrs. Paigen. We’re going to have dinner, and then we’re going to the cookie decorating contest and the lighting of the town’s Christmas tree.” Lana leaned down and hugged the older woman.
“I told you to call me Iris, Doll. It’s Iris. Mrs. Paigen was my mother-in-law.” With the assistance of her cane she stood. “Those biscuits you made for breakfast and dinner last night were divine. Reminds me of my mother’s biscuits.” She made the sign of the cross. “God rest her soul. Thank you for that. I thought I’d never taste them again.”
He couldn’t help but notice that Iris hadn’t God-rested-her-soul for her mother-in-law. What were the chances that she was still alive and that had been the reason she’d skipped it?
Lana put her hand over her heart. “That is the best compliment ever. I’m honored.”
He knew Lana meant it. She took pride in everything she did.
“Thank you for giving me your mother’s sticky bun recipe. I’ve got the dough cooling in the refrigerator so we can have them for breakfast. I hate to ask, but could you help me with them tomorrow morning? Did she roll them out or pinch off the dough?” Lana wanted to know because she wanted to get it right and not because she was a perfectionist, but because she wanted to them to taste like the original recipe.
“I’d be happy to, Doll. I’m an early riser so I’ll be down around six-ish. How’s that?” Iris seemed excited.
“That’s perfect.” Lana glanced around. “Everyone looks extra dressed up. Are y’all having a party?”
“No, we’re all going to the Christmas Tree lighting. It sounds like a big shindig. The whole town’s going to be there including Santa Claus. In a town named Christmas, Texas, I’m expecting him to be a pretty big deal.” Iris turned her full attention on Nick. “Your cutie patootie brother is bringing the school bus to pick us all up.” Iris did a slow spin. Her blue cotton dress would have twirled and flounced out if she’d been going a little faster. “This dress just appeared in my closet. Isn’t it nice?”
“I love it. I’ve had clothes appear too. I think it’s a ghost.” Lana winked. “What do you think?”
The left side of Iris’s face scrunched up into a wink. “I think you might be right. I wonder if it’s someone famous. I bet we have a famous ghost.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Lana nodded. “I bet you’re right.”
“Okay, you two kids better get going. You don’t want to be late to the tree lighting.” Iris nodded toward the kitchen. “We’re having pot roast with mashed potatoes, my favorite. The food’s so good here, I don’t want to leave.”
“Enjoy your pot roast. I hope to see you at the tree lighting.” Lana gave Iris a quick hug.
Iris held out her arms to Nick. “Bring it in here, handsome.”
He hugged her. “It was nice to see you again, Iris.”
She dropped her arms. “You two, get out of here.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Nick put his hand in the small of Lana’s back and led her to the front door.
She waved back at Iris.
“Did you know that she worked for JFK when he was in the House of Representatives?” Lana leaned in and whispered. “She hinted that Marilyn Monroe might have gotten her sloppy seconds.”
“That’s awesome.” He could feel her excitement at the news.
“I love to hear her stories. She is a self-proclaimed floozy. It’s fantastic. I love it.” Lana glanced back at Iris. “We’ve exchanged information. In a couple of weeks, I’m going to spring her from the Biltmore Haven Senior Living Center, and we’re going to paint the town red.” Lana shrugged. “I don’t know what that means, but it sounds like fun.”
He’d forgotten how much she loved people. She wanted to know their story. Depending on his progress, she may or may not be able to keep that appointment. He wasn’t sure how it would work for Lana. He’d received a special dispensation of sorts to go to college. Normally, if he or anyone outside of his family set foot outside the outer marker, the Spirit of Christmas would disappear. Of course, his father was able to leave on Christmas Eve, but he had to make it back before dawn on Christmas morning.
He opened the front door for Lana, and a cold gust of wind blew in. She pulled his coat tighter around her. He followed her outside and closed the door.
Lana stood on the front porch and just took in all of the Christmas lights.
“That is a lot of lights. When I walked here in the rain, I thought the lights were too much.” She tilted her head left and then right. “Now, I think they’re just enough.”
“In Christmas, Texas, we take our Christmas lights seriously.” He pointed to the copse of trees in front of the inn. Each tree held about a million lights, and every tree was a different color. “I like the traditionally colored lights. The dark blue ones are kind of creepy.”
Lana evaluated the blue lit trees. “I’m going to have to agree. The blue is weird.”
She took it all in. “I like that there aren’t strange vignettes of lit up cartoon characters.” She swept her arms wide. “It’s just lights outlining builds and trees. Cartoon Santa isn’t driving a sleigh pulled by twinkling bullfrogs. And Snoopy and Charlie Brown aren’t riding a blowup carousel.”
“You’re right. I never thought of it that way. We take the old school approach to Christmas lights, no cartoon characters allowed.” He watched her face light up as her eyes found the town Christmas tree.
They’d planted the cedar right in the middle of the town square the day after they’d moved here. A couple hundred years of diligent watering and that cedar was close to four stories tall.
“That is the tallest cedar tree I’ve ever seen.” She thought about it for a second. “In Texas.”
“It’s been here as long as the town. We’re very proud of it. We planted it as a sapling.” Digging a hole in Central Texas was a challenge. There’s about an inch of topsoil and then several feet of limestone and caliche. At least the ground wasn’t frozen like it had been in the North Pole.”
“We?” Understanding dawned on her pretty face. “I guess a
n ancestor of yours planted the tree. I didn’t realize your family settled this town.”
“Yes. We did.” All of his family in fact.
She pointed to the lot across the street. “It looks like they’re setting up booths. Do they sell food and hot chocolate for the tree lighting?”
“Just hot chocolate and it’s free. No food.” He wished they had food. That would have made feeding her easier. “I bet you’re wishing they had food.”
She grinned. “The one and only meal you’ve ever made for me was burned microwave popcorn. It took weeks to get that smell out of my apartment.”
“Dinner’s going to be great, I’ve got it covered.” He tried to sound confident.
“Then why do you look worried?” Another cold gust of wind blew through, and she shivered.
“Let’s get into the car before you freeze. I parked right over there.” He pointed to his Tahoe with the sheriff’s logo on the driver’s door and the lights on the top.
“I’ve never ridden in a police car.” She shot him a dazzling smile. “Can we turn on the lights?”
“Only if you want to scare the entire town.” He walked her around the to the passenger’s side and opened the door for her. He climbed in the driver’s side. “I know I just said that I had dinner covered, but I’d like for you to set your expectations really low. It’s the thought that counts, right?”
She watched him from the passenger’s seat. “How low? Are we talking food poisoning low or just burned the food beyond recognition low?”
“I promise you won’t get sick, but other than that, all bets are off.” He was determined to feed her, but he might have to get some Christmas Spirit help.
“Are there any restaurants?” She looked around. “I don’t see any.”
“No, we don’t have a restaurant. We could use one.” Not really. Food just appeared on the table fully cooked.
“I think an eclectic café would do well here. You know farm to table. Gourmet burgers, woodfired pizzas, some Tex-Mex dishes. Killer good desserts. A nice bar area.” She nodded. “It could work.”
“It would be fantastic if we could eat there tonight.” He used the backup camera to back out of the parking space. “You should move here and open it up.”
He was Mr. Subtlety tonight.
“I wish. But I have my business back in Austin. We’re small, but we’re growing our client base steadily.” She was very proud of her company.
“You’re in advertising, right? Do you like it?” Maybe they could hire her to do some advertising for SC Industries. Then again, Santa had never had trouble getting the word out.
“Yes. I like it.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Tell me about the family business. Toy making? I don’t remember you mentioning that your family made toys back in college.”
That’s because he hadn’t mentioned what his family did. “I must have. We make toys. I’m VP of development, and I’m the town Sheriff.”
“That’s an interesting combination, but I guess in a small town you have to wear many hats so to speak. My assistant, Jill, is from a small town named Bullard in North East Texas. Their bank is also the library and a coffee shop. It’s great. You can grab cash from the ATM, check out a book, and fill up on caffeine all in the same place.” She watched out the passenger’s side window as they drove around the town square.
“You’re right. We all do wear many hats in this small town. We need a Sheriff, but not full time. I like developing toys, but that isn’t a full-time job either.” He pulled up to his house and parked on the street. When he’d built the house, driveways had yet to be invented. He could have added one, but he liked parking on the brick paved street. He put the Tahoe in park and turned off the engine.
“This is your house?” Lana’s mouth fell open. She unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the door, and stepped onto the brick street.
“You should have waited. I wanted to get the door for you.” He hoped she liked his house.
She looked at the front of his house, back at him, and then back to the house. “I would have never taken you for a Victorian architecture man.” She studied the house. “You don’t see Victorian homes like this in Texas outside of Galveston. It’s amazing.”
She ran up the front steps like she couldn’t wait to see the inside. “All of this white gingerbread woodwork must take forever to paint. Does the front porch go all the way to the backyard?”
“Yes.” He couldn’t stop smiling. He’d never thought he’d see the day when he’d have Lana over to his house. He’s always been somewhat of an architecture fan, and he loved the formal somewhat fuzzy Victorian style.
She stepped around the porch swing and walked all the way around the house. “It’s beautiful. Is it original?”
“Yes and no. It was built about fifty years after the town was settled. Everything’s handmade from the floorboards to all of that gingerbread work. All of the woodwork is original, but the inside had to be updated.” It had taken him almost a decade to build and finish out the house. He could have just snapped his fingers and had it appear, but his mother was right. There was something satisfying about creating something with his own two hands.
“Did you do the update yourself?” She headed to the front door.
“Yes.” He barely beat her to the front door. He opened it for her. “A modern kitchen and bathrooms were really the only modifications. And... well... wiring. Electricity is important.”
“We take it for granted now, but this house was probably built mainly with hand tools.” She stepped inside the front entryway and just stood there. “The wood scroll work is incredible.” She glanced back at him. “Did the same person who built the inn also build this house? Or, well, the same carpenter?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, he and his family did.” In the old country, his family had been woodworkers and farmers.
Lana clamped a hand over her nose. “What’s that smell?”
Something was burning. “Oh no. It must be the ham.”
He ran into the kitchen and opened the oven. Smoke bellowed out. He grabbed a potholder, pulled out the charred meat, and set it on the butcherblock island.
“It looks like it might have caught on fire at one point and burned itself out.” Lana pointed to the burn marks with the hand that wasn’t covering her nose. “That’s a really big ham shoved into a really small pan.”
“I didn’t have one big enough, so I made do.” He didn’t have a backup plan. “At first I was going to grill us some steaks, but my mom thought it would be safer for everyone if I baked a ham.” He glanced at the barely recognizable hunk of meat. “I guess she was wrong.”
Lana closed the oven to keep more smoke from bellowing out and opened the window above the sink. “I have to be honest. I already ate. Your mom made me a sandwich.”
She walked to the refrigerator, opened it, and pulled out a plate holding a huge turkey sandwich, a pickle, and a scoop of potato salad. “She told me that she’d left one in your fridge for you.”
“If I’d only known, it would have saved me some heartache.” Not to mention time. He was grateful to his mother, but she could have mentioned it.
Lana slid the plate in front of him. “Just for the record, I was fully prepared to eat whatever you made.” She glanced at the ham. “But I’m glad I don’t have to.”
He was starving, but he hated to eat in front of her. He grabbed a knife from the dish drying rack and cut the sandwich in two. “Do you want half?”
“No, I’m good.” She shrugged off his coat and carefully folded it and laid it on the back of one of his kitchen chairs. “Mind if I look around?”
“Not at all. I can walk and eat.” He picked up the plate, grabbed a fork, and used it to point to the living room.
She made her way to the living room and went directly to the Christmas tree. She touched one of the ornaments. “Are these blown glass?”
“Yes, my father makes them in the off season.” He took a bite of sandwich and silen
tly thanked his mother.
“He’s very talented.” She touched one of the ornaments, and it slipped off the tree and shattered on the wood floor.
“I’m so sorry.” She squatted down and picked up the broken pieces. “Maybe I can glue it back together.”
She looked upset.
“It’s no big deal.” He set the plate down on his coffee table. “Don’t worry about it. I can fix it. In fact, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. It might be easier to show you.” He snapped his fingers, and the ornament disappeared and reappeared unbroken in the exact spot it had been on the tree.
Lana jumped and clapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes went huge. “I don’t understand. Did that ornament just fix itself?”
“Yes, and the clothes that appeared when you needed them aren’t a gift from a ghost. The Spirit of Christmas lives in this town and provides whatever we need.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You know how Santa lives in the North Pole. Well, he got tired of the cold, so he moved here.”
“Sure. Makes sense.” She sounded like none of it made sense. “Santa was the original Winter Texan. Right, okay.”
He snapped his fingers and a second Christmas tree appeared. It was an exact replica of the first.
Lana’s jaw practically bounced off the floor. She extended her right index finger and pushed at a branch like she was touching it to make sure it was real. She looked around like she could pull an explanation for the tree out of thin air. “I don’t understand. The Spirit of Christmas makes things like clothes and Christmas trees?”
He snapped his fingers and the second tree disappeared.
“No and yes. The Spirit of Christmas provides what we need.” He wanted her to understand. He needed her to understand. He wasn’t doing the best job of explaining things. Then again, there really wasn’t a good way to explain.
“For the whole town? How?” She looked at him like he was crazy. “Why?”
“Yes. The Spirit of Christmas is strong in this town because Santa Claus lives here.” He watched her carefully. “He runs SC Industries. Santa Claus is my father.”
Welcome to Christmas, Texas: A Christmas Network Novel Page 11
