Christmas Kisses: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 1)

by Lucy McConnell

  So not helpful.

  Reese stopped in the middle of the children’s section, where the new shelves gleamed in the bright lights. The place looked good. She wished The Candy Counter could get a makeover. It was clean, but there were chips in the Formica and some areas had yellowed with age.

  “Wait, are you … Is there, like, a guy?” Clark asked.

  Reese lifted her shoulders and moved ahead. “No!” Her answer sounded defensive even in her own ears.

  “What? As the guy’s future brother-in-law, I totally have to approve. Who is it?”

  “Nobody, sheesh!” Reese hastened her steps to put distance between her and her pesky little brother, who was quickly warming up to the task of verbally poking her until he got answers.

  Grabbing handfuls of individually wrapped candies and dropping them in the clear plastic drawer, Clark threatened, “If you don’t tell me, I’ll guess.”

  “You can try.” Reese’s restocking job took more care. She had to inspect each chocolate to make sure it was up to snuff before arranging it in the display case. Chocolates that weren’t pretty ended up in a white bag marked “no-sales.”

  “Jacob Henderson,” said Clark.

  “Nope.” Reese bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

  “Bret, what is his last name …? Richards. Bret Richards.”

  “Bret Richards? The guy who dresses like a 1978 car salesman. Pah-lease. Give me a little credit.”

  Clark glanced around, lowering his voice. “Gentry in the men’s department.”

  “Ew, sleazy. No thanks.”

  Clark scanned the store. “Is it Carlos?” He tipped his head, considering. “He’d be cool.”

  Reese shook her head. “Have you seen how he looks at Anika?”

  Clark threw his hands in the air. “That’s all the guys your age I know.” His eye grew wide. “Is he old? Crap, it’s Rhett Abramson.” He snapped his fingers. “No wonder you don’t want to admit it. That man is old. He’s rich, though.”

  Reese threw an empty container at him. Clark scrambled to catch it before it hit the floor, finally trapping it against his leg. “Get your mind out of the trash. I’m not some gold digger.”

  He surveyed the hard candy stock. “I’m done here. You sure you don’t want me to stay?”

  “I’ve had enough humiliation for one night, thank you very much.”

  “Sorry. It’s hard to picture you serious about a guy. You’re my sister.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I forgive you. But only because you’re my only sibling. If I had another brother, you’d be at the bottom of my list.”

  Clark smiled as he took off his apron and put on his coat. “Whoever he is, make sure you run him past me before he meets Dad. I could save you a lot of trouble by prescreening the guy.”

  “Thanks. Your offer is noted.”

  “Bye.” Clark waved as he headed towards the back entrance.

  Reese went back to work, her mind still on Andy. She thought over Clark’s answer, “it depends on the girl,” and decided that until she knew for certain Andy was interested, throwing out hints was a waste of time.

  Finishing the chocolates, Reese moved on to the Turkish delight, another treat they made specifically for Christmas. The Ice Money, the wealthy who stayed at the Ruby Mountain Ski Resort, loved getting it for their kids and explaining how Edmund, in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, had sold his birthright for a plate of Turkish delight. Reese loved the connection but didn’t love the powdered sugar mess that accompanied the candy.

  She glanced up as Anika, the new temp worker in the women’s department, was passing by. Anika had brought her daughter to work this week. She was such an adorable girl, and Reese had been sneaking her taffy when her mom wasn’t looking. Reese offered Anika a bag of no-sales, chatted for a minute, and then retrieved the last of the containers to finish stocking the display. The weatherman had mentioned a big snowstorm headed this way. It wasn’t supposed to hit until tomorrow, but she didn’t want to be caught on the roads if it decided to show up early.

  As she crossed the walkway, she stopped dead in her tracks and almost dropped her chocolates. Leaning against the counter, Andy had a takeout bag from Fay’s Café in one hand and a drink caddy with two sodas in the other.

  Reese hurried to set the chocolates on the counter before she melted them all. The way her body warmed at the very sight of Andy and his broad shoulders, blue eyes, and wavy hair, she’d leave the candy stock in a puddle if she held on to it too long. Talk about a kettle boiling! He looked extra yummy wrapped up in a chunk navy scarf. Dang. “Hey there.” Her words came out all breathless and dreamy, and Reese thought she would die.

  “Hey.” Andy’s voice matched Reese’s in heat, doing absolutely nothing to help Reese cool off.

  Reese realized she was staring and gave her head a little shake to break the spell. It didn’t work, so she took a step back. “What’s up?” Reese tried to sound casual. This was Andy. Buddy from down the street, Andy. Yet he was here, and he’d never come here before. Not to the counter. Not with takeout food for two. And certainly not acting like the entire reason he’d appeared was to see her. Was Andy hinting to her?

  Andy set the food on the counter and pulled a stack of papers from inside his coat. “You have orders.”

  “Orders?” Reese picked up the top sheet and scanned it quickly. “This is a shipping order for five Santas.”

  “There’s more.” Andy set the papers on the counter next to the food. “I linked the order form to your account, so all twenty-two Santas are paid for— shipping too.” His grin spread right up to his eyes, which sparkled.

  Reese pressed the order form to her chest, where her heart was racing. “This is really happening?” She couldn’t believe it was working— and in such a short time.

  Andy pulled his eyebrows together. “I thought this is what your family wanted?”

  She nodded quickly, too happy to spoil the moment by explaining that it was really just Reese who wanted the online store. “It is. I just can’t believe it’s working.” She pulled the sheet away from her chest. “Cameron Pillarston from Mississippi bought our product and paid shipping. That is so cool.” She let out a squeal and threw her arms around Andy’s neck. “Thank you so much.”

  Andy wrapped his arms around her and picked her up, his chuckle reverberating through her body. Feeling light and joyful, Reese pulled back, expecting Andy to let go.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, he loosened his hold so Reese slid down until her toes reached the floor, his arms still holding her around the waist. Andy glanced at Reese’s lips and then at her cheek. Her breath caught in her throat, and her head spun.

  He reached up and wiped away something.

  “What?” asked Reese, her hand jumping to her face.

  “Powdered sugar.”

  “Oh.” Reese stepped out of Andy’s arms and scrubbed her face with her palms. She passed twenty mirrors between here and the stockroom and she couldn’t bother to look in one to make sure she didn’t have a dirty face? Ugh!

  “It’s kind of cute. You really get into your work,” Andy teased.

  Reese felt heat crawl up her neck. Their intimate moment was broken, and Reese was suddenly aware of how easy it could be to forget there were several Kenworth’s employees still hanging about at this time of night. She wondered if she had misinterpreted that look. The look that said he appreciated what he saw, with a hint of something deeper. The look that made Reese feel as if she were wrapped in precious packaging and held with tender care.

  Glancing down at the order form in her hand, she realized the true reason Andy had come was to drop them off. Sure, he was here to see her, but as a delivery boy, not as an interested possible date/boyfriend.

  She untied her apron and made her way around the counter, hoping a little space would keep her from throwing herself into Andy’s arms again. She wouldn’t think about how wonderful it was to be held tight against him— at least, not now.
Tonight, when Andy was far enough away that she wouldn’t make a fool of herself, she’d relive the moment as many times as she wanted. Stacking the plastic storage containers on the dolly, Reese asked, “So, what’s next?”

  “Shipping.”

  Reese flipped her braid over her shoulder. “I’m not sure … I mean, I hadn’t thought that far.”

  Andy laughed. “I happen to know a guy.”

  Reese grinned as she pushed the cart around and headed towards the storage room for the final time. Andy’s dad was affiliated with a national shipping chain, so he had all the connections. “Let me put this stuff away and I’ll be ready to go.”

  Andy fell in step beside her. “I’ll help.”

  Reese swallowed as images of kissing Andy in the storeroom filled her head. “Employees only.” She pointed to the sign that hung on the swinging door. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  Reese hurried to unload, not wanting to keep Andy waiting and at the same time wondering how she could misread Andy’s signals like she had. She loaded twenty-two Santas into a large box so she could take them to Pop’s for shipping.

  Shaking her head, Reese decided Grandma was a little loopier than they gave her credit for if she thought Andy was interested in Reese. What bigger hint could Reese have given Andy than throwing her arms around him like she did?

  She wanted a man who made her feel desired. While she caught glimpses of that from Andy, she couldn’t spend her life living off of drips— she needed a deluge. Better to keep things as they were with Andy, because if those drips ever became a steady stream, she’d lose her heart and never get it back.

  REESE AND ANDY DROVE SEPARATELY to Pop’s. He handed her a bag of food and a drink for the ride, and Reese was grateful for the privacy as she tried to eat and drive. Neither was done well, but at least Andy hadn’t seen the mustard smear on her chin or the undignified way she scarfed down the sandwich.

  The streets of Echo Ridge were dark and quiet in the winter night. Too quiet. The quiet before the storm, as it were. Reese shivered and wished she could turn up the heater. She threw a quick glance at the box of Santas in the back, wondering if they would survive shipping. Her family was so careful to keep them in controlled temperatures so they’d be perfect for Christmas morning. What would she do if they bloomed and customers demanded their money back? Her mom would kill her.

  She rounded Aspen Drive and pulled into an open spot next to Andy’s four-wheel-drive jeep in front of Pop’s Shipping. The neon “open” sign was dark, but there was a soft glow coming from the back of the store that left a patch of light on the sidewalk and snow.

  Andy’s door slammed, the noise echoing off the brick buildings. “Wow, Echo Ridge is dead tonight. You’d think we were breaking curfew.”

  “It’s past ten on a school night.” Reese shrugged as she pulled open the back door to retrieve her goods.

  “Let me.” Andy leaned in and hefted the box.

  “Thanks.” Reese shut the car door with her hip before picking her way over the snow bank created by snow plows and finally finding the sidewalk. The shopkeepers hadn’t spared the ice melt in their preparation for the coming storm, and it crunched under her shoes.

  She turned to watch Andy and found that his ability to traverse the winter buildup was much more graceful than hers had been. Some guys had grace, and Andy was one of them. Watching him move, Reese sighed heavily, and her breath puffed out in a cloud around her head.

  He caught her staring and lifted one eyebrow.

  Reese hastily dropped her appreciative gaze. “I’ll get the door.”

  They entered to the soft ding of a real bell, hung over the front door.

  “Hey, Pop. I brought you a visitor,” Andy called toward the back of the store.

  Pop Edwards reminded Reese of Indiana Jones. He always wore khaki pants with a dozen pockets, a button-up shirt, and a brown leather jacket. He’d had the same jacket for as long as Reese had known him, and he wore it almost all year long, indoors or out. The biggest difference between Pop and Indiana was the hair. Pop’s was all gone; his dome shone even in the dim, after-hours lighting. He was clean shaven. and Reese got a whiff of paper and packing tape as he enveloped her in a bear hug. “It’s about time you brought a girl around these parts.”

  Reese pushed out of his hug and placed her hands on her hips. “I’m not a girl. I’m Reese,” she said with a fond smile.

  The first time Reese had gone to Andy’s to play in the tree fort in the backyard, Pop had said it was nice to have a girl around. Though none was intended, six-year-old Reese had taken offense and declared her uniqueness in the world. Pop had chuckled and tapped her nose. “You’re right. You’re one of a kind.” She’d adored him from that moment forward.

  This time, instead of laughing and patting her on the head like he used to, Pop paused to look her in the eye. “My mistake,” he said wistfully. Shaking his head and muttering something about time passing too quickly, Pop assembled a box lined with bubble wrap.

  “How’s business, Pop?” Reese asked.

  “This time of year, everyone wants their packages there tomorrow, overnight, or could I just beam it to their mom?”

  “Beam? What?” Andy dropped his head into his hands.

  “You know what beaming is.” Pop’s salt-and-pepper eyebrows lowered, creating deep lines on his forehead. “We watch Star Trek: Next Generation every Sunday night for five years of his childhood, and the boy acts like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.”

  Reese bit down on her cheek. She barely managed a sympathetic pat on Pop’s shoulder before turning away and coughing to cover up her laughter. “Andy said you had an idea for our Santas?” she prompted.

  Pushing the last tab in place, Pop’s eyes brightened. “This is it.”

  Reese lifted an eyebrow. “It’s a box.”

  “It’s sturdy, so you won’t have to worry about the Santas getting crushed. And the padding will help hold them in place.” Pop leaned close. “Unlike my boy here.”

  “Dad!” Andy was suddenly at Reese’s side, his arm thrown casually across her shoulders. She held her breath, afraid that she’d scare him off if she moved. “Focus, please.” Andy’s eyes held a note of pleading that Reese was sure she was supposed to ignore.

  “What? You need to settle down. I’d like a chance to meet my grandchildren while still in this life.”

  Andy ran his hand through his hair. “Sheesh, Dad. You’re, like, fifty-seven.”

  Pop pushed his finger high in the air. “Exactly. There’s no way I’m living to a hundred and fourteen. I’ve lived over half my life without a grandchild. How long are you going to make an old man wait?”

  Reese patted him on the shoulder. “He’s so ungrateful. You deserve better.”

  Andy smirked and mouthed kiss-up. Reese smirked back.

  Pop held out both hands, palms up, toward Reese. “See, she gets it. She understands the ache in my heart.” He patted Reese on the head. “You’re a good girl, Reese. Would you consider my son? Not for his ungrateful behavior, but for my sake?”

  What had started out as teasing all of a sudden felt much too close to the heart. She glanced at Andy, who had his arms folded and appeared interested in her answer, all teasing and name-calling set aside. Reese dropped her eyes to hide the emotional fireworks popping just under her skin. “Pop, you know I’d do anything for you.”

  Pop shook his finger at Andy. “Don’t you mess this up. You couldn’t find a better girl in all the world.” Suddenly Reese was enveloped in Pop’s hug again, her face squished against a zipper on his leather jacket.

  “Okay, Pop. You’ve made your point, and I’m never bringing Reese here again.” Andy pulled them gently apart.

  Reese discreetly checked her cheek for a zipper-shaped indent.

  “She has to come; I’m the only one in town with her boxes.” Pop’s eyes danced. He had them both on that one.

  “Right, boxes.” Andy pulled out several Santas. “Let’s get t
hese ready to go out.” He set the order forms on the counter and pulled off his winter gear.

  Reese followed suit, and they got to work.

  It was quiet, the gentle sounds of shuffling paper adding to the cozy feeling in the room. Pop cleared his throat every now and again, and Reese focused on her task, stealing glances at Andy when he wasn’t looking.

  “None of these are going to warm places. That’s good,” said Reese as she filled out the shipping labels.

  “I put a note on the webpage that The Candy Counter is not responsible for the Santa melting during shipping,” said Andy. “I doubt you’ll get many orders from California or Florida.”

  “That was a good idea.”

  Andy gave her a smile. “I have them every now and again.”

  “Are you kidding? You’re a genius,” threw in Pop. “He gets that from me, you know?”

  Reese laughed. For all of his teasing, Pop’s face shone with pride.

  Andy sealed the last box, and Reese attached the shipping label. “That wasn’t so hard,” she said, patting the stack.

  “I’ll put the supplies on your mom’s account. If you want to take some with you, Andy can pick them up in the mornings when he brings your deliveries.”

  Reese panicked. Her mom was sure to notice ten boxes being shipped from the chocolate kitchen, and there was no good explanation— except the truth, which she wasn’t ready to spill quite yet. Twenty chocolate Santas was not the huge success Reese hoped to present to her mom. “Ya know what? Why don’t I just come in here and drop them off. Then I’ll get to see you every day, Pop.” Reese hated herself for the lies she told. What a tangled web she weaved. It wasn’t like she wanted to lie. It was just hard to answer all these questions without smudging the truth.

  “You come by anytime, girl.” Pop winked and stowed the scissors and other items in drawers behind the counter.

  “I’ll walk you out,” said Andy. They bundled up again and left the store, with the bell tinkling behind them.

  Reese hugged her arms around her stomach to ward off the cold. Pausing just outside the door, Reese tucked that darn piece of loose hair behind her ear again while Andy locked up. Pop would leave through the back door, where his car was parked in the alley. He liked to have the spots in front of the store open for customers.