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

by Lucy McConnell

  Reese swallowed. “Check,” she gasped.

  Andy chuckled, the deep, happy sound vibrating right through Reese. He traced his fingers across her lips. “You even taste like chocolate.”

  Reese grinned. “So you stole both in one swipe. You’re quite the thief.”

  Laughing, Andy stepped back and Reese turned to open the door. Her hands were working on auto pilot because her head was still trying to wrap itself around that kiss. Unlike other kisses she’d had, there was no wondering if she’d made the right decision. Kissing Andy was life-changing and completely natural, as if the path she’d stepped onto had been laid for her feet alone.

  “Are you complimenting my skills?” Andy asked, his voice light and teasing.

  “Are you fishing for a compliment again?” Reese shoved against the heavy door and it fell open. She flipped on the light.

  Andy placed his hand on the small of her back as they moved to the pile of Santas. “Did you see the poster in the window display?”

  Reese rolled her eyes. “The Candy Cane Twist? It’s all over the store. They’re remodeling or refurbishing the soda fountain or something like that. Jessica, she’s in the women’s department, is all a-twitter and won’t stop asking people what they’re going to wear. All Kenworth’s employees are encouraged to go.”

  “Right. Do you want to?” Andy rubbed the back of his neck.

  Reese leaned her hip against the counter, enjoying the view. She’d missed hanging out with him more than she’d ever let herself believe. “I hadn’t planned on it. We aren’t technically Kenworth’s employees, so it’s optional.”

  “I mean, do you want to go with me.” Andy pressed his palms into the countertop.

  Reese gave her smile full rein. She handed Andy the boxes she’d stacked. “Sure.” She pecked a kiss on his cheek, somewhat shocked at her boldness.

  Andy grinned. “Great. All I ask is that you wear chocolate.”

  “You!” Reese shoved him towards the door. He moved backwards, a goofy grin on his face. “If you don’t get a move on, there will be no more chocolate for you,” she threatened.

  Andy moved quickly, pecking her on the lips. “Then I’ll just have to steal it.”

  “Thief,” she breathed, suddenly overcome with the urge to see how warm they could make the kitchen.

  Andy delivered a lopsided smile before turning and hurrying out to the car.

  Reese fell against the counter. Andy really was a thief. He’d stolen her good sense, her kisses, and her heart. And darn it all if she wasn’t extremely giddy over the prospect.

  WEDNESDAY MORNING, REESE PULLED INTO her parents’ drive at five. It was still dark outside, and as she stared at the back door, she pressed her fingers to her lips. She and Andy had dropped off the Santas and then gone night sledding Monday night, their goodnight kiss taking almost as long as sledding. By the time she’d fallen into her sheets, a stupid grin plastered across her face, she was so tired she could have slept for days. Sleep wasn’t a luxury she was allowed during the week before Christmas, and so she’d spent most of Tuesday in a fog of exhaustion, a headache her constant companion.

  Andy had texted several times and called her last night, reconfirming their plans for Saturday and just chatting. Reese found that the new level of companionship and interest was as thrilling as it was comfortable. Her pulse spiked with each text, and she found herself giggling at odd moments over things Andy had said or done.

  In spite of the newness of “them” and “us,” she didn’t feel the usual shyness that came at the beginning of a relationship. There was no need to hide or reveal any secrets. She knew Andy’s story, had been part of most of it in one way or another, and he had always been a part of her life.

  There was one secret she was keeping from Andy, and it was a whopper. But as soon as Christmas was over, and she sat her parents down and revealed her ambitions, there would be no need to confess her subterfuge to Andy. Even though the guilt popped up throughout the day, she’d been able to cap it off with the promise of making things right in the end.

  Cutting the engine, Reese tucked her coat around her middle and hurried into the house. She used the back door, knowing it was too early for anyone to have chocolate going. Her phone beeped as she flipped on the light, and she scrambled for it.

  You up? asked Andy.

  Already working. You? Reese filled the bottom of the double broiler with warm water and set it on the counter.

  Drinking cocoa.

  Reese pictured Andy in a pair of flannel pajamas, holding a steaming mug. Sounds wonderful.

  What are you dipping today?

  Reese checked the fridge. Rum Balls.

  No banana?

  Reese laughed, the sound echoing off the metal surfaces. Hushing quickly, she typed her reply. They are banned from The Candy Counter.

  What a shame.

  Eyes rolling.

  Eyes rolling? Ever heard of an emoticon? Shaking head.

  Reese took the plastic storage container off the shelf and scooped out a cup of shavings. These she placed in the top of the double broiler. She pulled a wooden spoon out of the drawer and watched as the chocolate slowly lost its shape. Adding another cup, she stirred and then grabbed her phone to reply. Shrugging. Who needs ‘em?

  Snorting. You’re cheeky in the morning.

  Placing hand on hip. Am not!

  Retreating. Okay, okay. Sipping drink casually. What are you doing today?

  Stirring the chocolate, Reese decided to add another cup of shavings. Once they melted, she could put in larger pieces and then she could prep for dipping. Thinking… Dipping then filling online orders then working. You?

  Working and sledding with the cousins. Want to come? (Praying she says yes.)

  Reese felt a flip-flop in her tummy. Bouncing. Love to.

  Oooo, bouncing. That was a good one!

  Thanks. I thought of it myself. Patting self on back. Reese grinned. She checked the chocolate. Time to drop in the bigger pieces. Stirring carefully, she had enough to start dipping and needed to get started.

  Wondering— are you covered in chocolate yet?

  Shaking head. But I’m about to start. Gotta go.

  Nodding. K. Talk soon.

  Reese tucked her phone in her back pocket and went to the sink to wash her hands. She worked steadily on the rum balls, her hands moving on their own so her mind was free to wander to all things Andy. She finished the rum balls and moved on to the special fondant she’d made at home the night before.

  At six-thirty on the dot, Mom burst through the house door.

  “Morning,” Reese chirped.

  Joy froze, holding her apron strings out to the side. “You’re in a good mood.”

  Reese lifted one shoulder. “I guess so.”

  Joy tied her apron. “Is this holiday spirit or something else?” Reese opened her mouth to explain, in a highly edited— no kissing involved— story about Andy, when Mom held up both hands to stop her. “What is that?” Mom pointed at the bright yellow fondant. Suddenly, her eyes took on a knowing gleam. “That’s banana, isn’t it?”

  Reese squeezed her eyes shut. “Maybe.” She squinted out through one eye to see Mom wagging her finger.

  “There’s only one man on the planet who would eat those.”

  “I know, and I’m going to the Candy Cane Twist with him this Saturday.”

  “Well, I’ll be.” Mom pulled out the sugar bin and found the cream in the fridge. “When did this happen?”

  “Monday night.” Reese paused to shift the waxed paper a little higher on the counter. “I’ll need to get off a couple hours early so I can get ready. Is that okay?”

  “We’ll make it work. You should go.” Joy measured two cups of sugar and dumped them in the heavy saucepan.

  They worked together until a little after nine, when Joy bustled out to get ready for Kenworth’s. Reese washed up before putting the finished rum balls in cups and then in the plastic containers for transportation. The b
ananas she put in a gold box and then wrapped with a red ribbon. The extras were stored in a tin Reese would take with her to work and then store at her apartment. She sighed happily at the thought of Andy’s face when he tried banana and chocolate-flavored kisses.

  Reese went out and started her car before retrieving the chocolate Santas she would need for online orders and sneaking them out the back door. She was about to tiptoe out with the banana chocolates when she heard her dad raise his voice. Setting the box and tin down by the back door, she went to the house door and opened it slightly so she could hear better. It wasn’t exactly polite to eavesdrop, but she could count on her fingers the times she’d heard her dad use that tone, and her curiosity was stronger than her manners.

  “Her toes are purple!” Dad rubbed his palm over his bald spot. “There has to be something you can do.”

  Reese changed her angle and saw her mom wringing her hands while Dad barked into the phone. She felt helpless. Grandma wasn’t getting better, and if her toes were turning colors …? What did that even mean? Was that normal for someone her age? Was it a sign that things were getting worse? She hated not knowing how to help.

  After a moment of strained silence where Dad listened to whomever was on the phone, he deflated. “I understand. Thanks for your time.” He hung up the phone and closed his thick fingers around it, making a fist. “She says it’s a circulation thing and she’s sending over an oxygen tank.”

  Mom shook. “Okay. I’ll see if Reese can cover for me at the store.”

  Reese stepped out from her hiding spot. “I’ll go. You stay with Grandma. I’ll work a double.”

  “I can come later on,” said Dad.

  “No, it’s fine.” Reese hated to miss sledding with Andy, but he would understand. She checked the time on her phone. “I had better get going. I’ll call you later to see how Grandma’s doing on the oxygen.”

  Mom kissed her cheek. “Thank you. We’ll make sure you get Saturday afternoon off— no matter what. Okay?”

  “Mom, it’s okay. Worry about Grandma.” Reese hugged her back, trying to transfer some strength into Joy. Not that Reese had much strength of her own at the moment.

  She went out the front door and climbed into her idling car. As soon as she did up her seatbelt, the gas light went on. Biting back a curse, she knew she’d have to hurry if she was going to stop for gas and get to the store in time to have The Candy Counter opened with the rest of Kenworth’s. The last thing her mom needed was an angry phone call from Cecilia because Reese was late.

  It was noon before Reese had the chance to text Andy that she wouldn’t be able to go sledding.

  Frowning but understanding. Praying she gets better soon.

  Wow, three in one text— inspiring. And, thanks.

  With the annual toy train display bringing in scores of families, the noise level in the children’s department, right across from The Candy Counter, rose considerably along with the number of customers. Reese hopped from one customer to the next. Around three her mom texted to say that Grandma was doing better now that she had the oxygen. The news only slightly abated Reese’s worry, which wore her down and made the day drag. Busy right up until closing, Reese’s feet and legs throbbed, and her lower back complained all the way home. She cranked up the heater to get the chill of fear out of her bones and went through the drive-thru at the gas station for a hot chocolate.

  Too tired to do much more than kick her shoes off and unhook her bra, Reese fell asleep on top of her blankets, still wearing her big sweater and leggings.

  THE NEXT MORNING, REESE AWOKE with a start. Sometime in the night she’d rolled up in her comforter like a burrito, and her arms were asleep. Struggling to free herself, she ended up rolling off the bed and landing on her side. Perfect. Getting off the floor was comedic with her arms full of pins and needles. Flinging her body on the bed again, she lay there until feeling returned to her hands. Thinking through her morning, she planned to visit Grandma, send the online orders off, and—

  Crap! Reese bolted from the bed and dug through her purse, where she found yesterday’s orders. Between working the double shift and her concern for Grandma, Reese had completely forgotten to send the orders. Cursing under her breath, she ran out to the parking lot.

  She ripped open the back door and groaned. The Santa on the top of the pile looked like he’d been on some kind of vegan diet for a year. He’d melted and then reset in a thin wafer shape. Digging through the box revealed that the others had fared about the same.

  Reese leaned her head against the cold seatback. Twenty-five Santas ruined. And she didn’t even know how many more orders were waiting in her inbox. She’d have to take stock from the store to replace these, as the stash at the house was dangerously low.

  If she hurried, she could make it to Kenworth’s before her mom arrived to open up, and she’d be able to use the stock in the closet to fill orders and be out of there before her mom even knew she’d been in the store. Then she could get to Pop’s with just enough time to fill out the shipping labels and load the boxes before her afternoon shift. She hated not being able to see Grandma with her own eyes and verify that she was indeed doing better than the previous days, but there just wasn’t enough time to do everything.

  Besides, part of the reason she was doing this online store was so they could afford to hire someone to help Grandma. The end goal would be worth the work and toil. Everyone had to pay their dues, didn’t they?

  The Friday morning drive to her parents’ home was a slick one. The roads had a two-inch layer of snow and the plows hadn’t been out yet. They’d hit the streets while she dipped, and her commute to the department store should be fine. Once inside the familiar kitchen, she felt the tension between her shoulders relax. Lined up nicely was a fresh batch of Santas. Her mom must have poured them last night. Their reserve was low, too low for Reese’s comfort. She’d planned to do a set this morning, but with her mom on it, they would be fine.

  Mom came in around seven, her hair up and her lips in a straight line. There were bags under her eyes and her skin looked dull. Reese realized her mom must have stayed up late to pour the additional Santas, and she felt horrible for placing the added burden on her mom’s already drooping shoulders.

  “Grandma has an appointment today. Is there any way you can cover for me this morning? I promise we’ll get you tomorrow afternoon off so you can get your hair done for the dance.” Joy wrapped gold foil around a Santa and dropped him into a box.

  Reese kept a weather eye on the growing stack of finished Santas. She would need seventeen for online orders. Christmas was less than a week away, and she hoped things would start to slow down. She couldn’t guarantee the packages would arrive before Christmas, and had asked Andy to put a box on the order form stating as much.

  They’d mostly been texting. Andy was understanding about Reese’s busy schedule and her worry over her grandma. Yesterday he had sent her a picture of himself at the top of a black diamond run. From the angle he took the photo, the trail looked like a cliff. Reese grinned, her hands stilling as she pictured Andy flying down the side of the mountain, his skies bouncing from side to side, his jaw set in determination, his muscular body responding to his every command with skill and precision …

  “Reese,” Joy said, exasperated.

  “What?” Reese blinked away the pleasant daydream.

  “I asked if you had a dress for the dance.” Joy had finished the Santas and was untying her apron.

  Reese picked up her rhythm again. “There’s one I’ve been eyeing in the women’s department. It’s kind of retro, with a small waist and flared skirt.” Reese could just picture herself in the Hepburn-worthy pink with huge black buttons. The color wasn’t powder pink; it was a more mature shade that turned Reese’s skin a rosy color. The best part was imagining Andy’s face when he saw her all dressed up with her hair hanging in waves. The night was going to be amazing, and it couldn’t come fast enough.

  “Are you going to pic
k it up today?”

  Reese nodded. “I asked Jessica to put one aside for me.”

  “Good. Honey, I want you to promise me that you’ll take the night off.”

  “I already asked—”

  “That’s not what I mean,” interrupted Mom. “I want you not to worry about work or your grandma or anything. Just go out and be young and enjoy the date.”

  Reese chewed her lip. “It feels wrong to be happy when Grandma is so sick.”

  Mom came around the counter and put her hand on Reese’s shoulder. “I know. What do you think Grandma would tell you?”

  Reese laughed. “To not get my knickers in a knot.”

  Mom laughed. “She’d say, ‘Dance the night away.’”

  Reese sighed. “She would— and she’d mean it.”

  “Then she’d tell you that you’ll never know if he’s a frog or a prince unless you kiss him.”

  Reese’s dipping hand smacked on the counter, sending chocolate splashing onto her apron. “Mom!”

  “I didn’t say it. It was your grandma.”

  Reese shook her finger at her mom. Laughing, she said, “You’re just as bad as she is.”

  Joy grinned. “Be careful, it runs in the maternal line.”

  Reese bit her lip. She’d already learned that lesson the hard way.

  “Mom?” Clark called before poking his head in through the house door. His hair was perfectly combed and his shirt was wrinkled. “Did you go to the store? I can’t find any bread.”

  “I think it’s in the deep freeze.” She glanced at the clock. “I’ll get it while you get your books off the table.”

  “’Kay. Thanks.” Clark disappeared, and then reappeared only a second later. “Hey, Reese.”

  “Hey, Clark.”

  He crossed his eyes, grinned for a second, and then disappeared again.

  Reese laughed. He was such a goof.

  “Will you take those Santas to Kenworth’s? We have a lot of orders for pickup on Christmas Eve and I’d like to stock up.”