Carmen groaned inwardly—first, dreams of Dean all night, then coming down late, and now this. Obviously it was going to be another one of those days. “Okay, fine, thank you for helping out, but I’m here now. You can go.”
Just then, the second oven timer rang. “I’ll get it,” they both said, then bumped into each other as they reached for the oven mitts. He relented and turned the buzzer off while she got the large baking dish out of the oven. She placed it on the stove, then removed the oven mitts. She cut off the strawberry mixture and turned to him. “Dean, thank you very much for your help, but I’m here now. Everything’s under control. So, enjoy your breakfast and have a great day.”
He nodded reluctantly. “You too.” He removed his apron and turned to leave. Carmen watched him go. Then, not paying attention, she grabbed the baking dish to move the French toast casserole. A split second later, she shrieked, dropped the dish back down, and jumped back. She had burned her hand.
Dean instantly turned to help. He grabbed her, rushed her over to the sink, and ran cold water on her hand. She pulled away. “No, hold your hand still,” he instructed firmly.
She immediately tensed as he stood right behind her, his body intimately pressed against hers. She held still and let him hold her hand in the stream of cold water. After a few seconds, the hot, stinging pain cooled and subsided. But another aching burn began elsewhere. Her legs felt weak and her body swayed back against him. She could feel the hardness of his body as his arm slipped around her waist. Her stomach dropped in free-fall like the first dip on a mile-high roller coaster.
“How’s that?” he asked gently.
Her thoughts muddled and hazed. She knew he had spoken. She just had no idea what he’d said. All she could register were his perfect lips so close to her neck and the dreams from the night before.
“Is that better?” he asked again.
She nodded this time. Her mouth was too dry to speak.
“Good. Do you have any aloe vera?” he asked.
“No, I’m okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “It was just a quick burn. I should have been paying attention. I just grabbed the tray without thinking.”
He grabbed a paper towel, dried her hand, and looked at the small red burn at the side of her palm. “I think you might need an herbal salve or some antibacterial ointment.”
“Dean, I’ll be fine. I’ve burned myself before and this is really no big deal.” She turned to him, expecting he’d step back, but he didn’t.
He looked at her hand and smiled, shaking his head. “Still as stubborn as ever.” Her stomach jumped. Neither spoke for a few seconds. They seemed transfixed by the moment as the spark of intimacy hovered all around them. Then he leaned in just inches from her lips and stopped. The pause was seductive and tantalizingly sensual. As if caught up in the suspension of reality, she fought against the intimacy of the moment. “When are you going to relax?” he asked as he kissed her cheek, then eased down to her neck and shoulder.
She gasped and her heart slammed hard. In breathless anticipation, she licked her lips and shook her head slowly. “Dean. We can’t do this again.”
“We can do whatever we want. The question is, Carmen, what do you want?”
The answer was simple. She wanted him. Her heart knew it, her body knew it, but there was no way she was going to give in knowing that she’d be opening herself up to pain and heartache again. No, she intended to hold firm to her decision to keep as much distance between them as possible.
The decision was made. She was going to be strong. She blurted out her answer. “Nothing’s changed, Dean. I know my responsibilities and what I want doesn’t matter.”
He shook his head. “No, you’re wrong. Of course it matters. It always mattered.”
His smile vanished instantly as he pulled her into his arms. In the blink of an eye, his mouth captured hers. The kiss rocked her to her core. They were still kissing when they heard someone clear their throat.
Carmen jumped back instantly. She was mortified to look over and see her mother standing in the doorway grinning. “Mom,” she said, still breathless. “You’re back.”
“Good morning, honey. Yes, I am.”
“Good morning again,” Dean said. “Everything’s taken care of—scones, muffins, jam, and the casserole is out of the oven.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Dean,” Marion said.
Carmen rolled her eyes.
“Any more bags in the car?” he asked as he walked over to take the grocery bag from her.
“No, I just have the one bag here, but there are a few cases of water bottles in the trunk of the car if you don’t mind grabbing them,” Marion added.
“Sure, no problem. I’ll put them in the pantry,” he said, then walked out the back door.
Carmen relaxed as soon as he walked out. She turned, put on the oven mitts, and then grabbed the baking dish. “I’ll take this out to the dining room. The guests should be arriving for breakfast soon.”
Marion smiled knowingly. She was still smiling when Carmen came back into the kitchen. Carmen grabbed the muffins and scones, then took them out to the dining room. When she came back in, after taking much longer than necessary, she looked around the kitchen.
“He’s already gone,” Marion said.
“Who’s gone?” Carmen asked needlessly.
“Dean. You grabbed the scones and muffins and left so quickly I assumed you didn’t want to be here when he returned.”
“I wasn’t avoiding him. I just wanted to put the bread out while they were still warm,” Carmen said.
Marion nodded, only half believing her as she poured the last of the homemade strawberry jam into a serving dish. Carmen came over and waited until her mother was done. She picked up the dish, then paused. “What you saw earlier between me and Dean wasn’t what you think.”
“I didn’t say a word,” Marion said, putting the pan in the sink as she smiled to herself.
“It’s complicated.”
“It was a kiss,” Marion corrected.
“No, it was . . .” Carmen attempted to continue.
“A kiss,” she repeated.
“A weakness,” Carmen said. “It won’t happen again.”
“Carmen, don’t say that. Passion and love are not weaknesses. And the kiss I saw, the kind that curls toes and makes your heart soar and your stomach tumble, is a gift. I just want you to be happy, and if Dean makes you happy, then I’m over the moon for you both.”
“Mom, I don’t need Dean in my life to be happy.”
“Honey, everyone needs someone. I had your father and we were very happy. I just want that for you too,” Marion said. “I don’t want the hotel to be all you have in your life.”
“I’m fine. This is my responsibility now. I understand that and it’ll be enough.”
“No, it’s not, and it shouldn’t be either.”
“Mom, it’s about family. I can’t walk away. I won’t.”
“You can do whatever you want to do.”
She shook her head. “That’s what Dean just said.”
Marion nodded. “He’s right.”
Carmen opened her mouth to respond, but closed it when she heard voices out in the dining room. They looked up at the clock. It was five minutes after six. “Looks like it’s time for breakfast to begin.”
Marion nodded and picked up the two large coffee carafes. “Showtime. I’ll be out front.”
Carmen nodded. A few minutes later, the morning breakfast routine was in full swing. She stayed busy, keeping the kitchen in constant motion by filling and refilling the breakfast trays while her mother was the perfect hostess. It was a job she relished and Carmen didn’t particularly care to do.
Guests, town residents, and visitors all came to enjoy the holiday breakfast at the Stiles. On most mornings, there was barely enough room. Sunday brunch was always packed, but today it was so crowded they opened up the conservatory, the sitting room, and the porch to extra seating and dining. Word was out th
at Dean Everett was staying there, and everyone wanted to meet him.
When Dean finally came back down to breakfast, it was like a celebrity had arrived. Carmen knew the instant he was downstairs. She could hear the excited chatter in the kitchen. She stepped out into the dining room briefly and watched as he totally wowed everyone with his usual self-confident swagger. Dressed in a suit and tie, he looked magnificent. He was an instant hit. Completely surrounded and constantly interrupted with conversation and introductions, he could barely eat.
While talking with one of the council members, he, by chance, glanced up and saw her standing in the kitchen doorway. His smile widened and the charming glint in his eyes seemed to actually sparkle. Carmen shook her head and smirked. He had mesmerized her years ago. The moment she’d seen him, she’d fallen in love. Now it looked like the small town of Hayden had finally caught up. An instant later, he winked. She chuckled and turned, seeing Thomas Ford watching them and smiling triumphantly.
She quickly grabbed a few dishes and went back into the kitchen. It was time to start cleaning up. Thirty minutes later, with the kitchen in great shape, Carmen stepped out front again. Her mother was gathering the last of the serving trays from the side buffet. Carmen grabbed the coffee carafes and followed her mother back into the kitchen.
“Man, they really love him out there,” Marion said, amused.
“Yeah, I know. I saw. Hard to believe these are the same people who called him trouble years ago.”
Marion laughed. “I know. They’re eating crow with breakfast now. We should just put it on the menu tomorrow,” she said, then chuckled at her own joke.
“Well, the good thing is that it’s ten-fifteen and breakfast is officially over.”
“Not quite.”
“What do you mean, not quite?”
“Well, most of the in-house guests are out for the day, but quite a few Hayden residents are still out in the conservatory. I don’t think they’re leaving anytime soon.”
“What? What about the big meet and greet Dean has to do this afternoon at the town hall?”
“They’re here, at least most of them. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was canceled, but I doubt it. Thomas is looking forward to giving Dean a walking tour of the town.”
Carmen looked up at the clock, shaking her head. “I’m supposed to meet Jessie at the gallery in an hour.”
“You go. I’ll finish up here.”
“Mom, I can’t leave you to finish all this.”
“What ‘all this’? You’ve already done everything. Sadie and Claire are upstairs cleaning the rooms. So, if I need help, I’ll grab one of the ladies. You go have fun.”
“Okay, I’ll be at the galley most of the afternoon. Call me if you need anything.”
“Go. Enjoy your day. Tell Jessie I said hello.”
Carmen nodded. She went to her bedroom, showered, changed, and headed out to town. On the way she saw Dean still talking with Thomas in the conservatory. With him busy with the council all day, she knew she wouldn’t see him until evening. That meant she had the rest of the day to relax. But she knew she wouldn’t. He was back in her heart, and there was nothing she could do about that.
Chapter 8
Once Carmen walked into the art gallery, she felt a sense of calm. She glanced around at the beautiful paintings, prints and sculptures around her. This was exactly what she needed—the perfect distraction. Here, she didn’t have to worry about seeing Dean, talking to Dean, and most importantly, kissing Dean. Here, she could relax in peace and enjoy the afternoon with a good friend.
Jessie’s assistants were helping customers when she walked in. But one spared a quick second to point to the rear of the shop, knowing she was there to see Jessie. Carmen waved, nodded, and headed to the back rooms. “Jess,” she called. She knew the area well—she’d helped Jessie pick the location and move in.
“Yeah, I’m in the art studio.”
Carmen walked through the corridor and found her friend leaning against the far wall looking at a large impressionist painting on the opposite end. Carmen walked over and leaned back beside her. Jessie tilted her head. Carmen did the same. “What do you think? And be honest,” Jessie said.
“Wow, I love it. It’s beautiful. The colors are serene, but still vibrant and alive. And then the faint silhouette of the two people moving apart is kind of heartrending. It’s sad, but also encouraging and tender, maybe because of the colors. Hmm . . . who’s the artist?” she asked.
“I am.”
Carmen turned to her friend. “You, really? You’re painting again?” she said. Jessie nodded. “Jess, that’s wonderful.” Carmen hugged her friend, knowing how much she loved painting and how she’d had to give it up years ago. “I’m so happy for you, and this piece is absolutely perfect.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it. It’s comforting and kind of sad with the two figures coming apart.”
“Or are they coming together?” Jessie said.
Carmen looked at her, then back at the painting, now seeing it completely differently. “I don’t know. Which is it?”
Jessie smiled and shook her head. “Art is always in the eye of the beholder. Maybe you’ll see it differently another time. Come on, let’s get to work.”
Carmen and Jessie spent the next hour talking, laughing, and going through catalogues of paintings and artwork for the bed-and-breakfast. Since the building had been renovated and a lot of the rooms remolded, Carmen and Marion had decided to change and update some of the older artwork on the walls to more contemporary pieces.
Carmen, with Jessie’s help, chose several paintings and prints, and then they went online to continue the search. But she didn’t see anything else she liked. “I have an idea. Why don’t I commission you to paint something for us?”
Jess shook her head. “I’m not ready for that yet. I’m still too, uh . . .” She paused, taking a deep breath “. . . busy working here.”
Carmen took her friend’s hand. “I know. I understand. Take your time.” Jessie nodded as Carmen continued. “So how have you been with everything, I mean since your husband’s death?”
“I’m doing okay,” Jessie said bravely, evasive as always. “I have good days and bad days.” She shrugged. “I miss him.”
“I know. And I’m here for you anytime you want to talk or scream or yell or cry, day or night. It doesn’t matter.”
Jessie nodded silently. “Thanks. Okay, enough about me and my world. So what do you think?”
“About this piece?” Carmen asked, looking back at the painting on the screen. “Nah, I don’t think so. It’s too dark.”
“No, what do you think about Dean? Is he coming back to stay or what?” Jessie asked.
“No, of course not. Why would he?”
“Um, I could think of one reason—you.”
Carmen shook her head. “No, he left before and he’ll leave again. He once said he was just passing through. That’s just how it is. We both know that. I stay and he goes.”
“Yeah, but that was before. You were teenagers. Now you’re two consenting adults with a lot of history and . . .”
“I kissed him,” Carmen said, blurting out her confession quickly. “Twice, maybe more. I don’t even remember now. And then he kissed me back.”
Jessie shrugged. “You’ve kissed him before, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, but not like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean this was a toe-curling, knees-weakening, mind-boggling kind of kiss. The kind you barely walk away from.”
Jessie nodded. “Oh, that kind of kiss. Now this is getting interesting. And when were you going to tell me about this?” Jessie asked. “Never mind, I want to hear all the down and dirty details. How was it?”
Carmen closed her eyes dreamily and moaned. “It was insanely sensual, indescribably sexy, and a huge mistake.”
“What? What do you mean a mistake?”
“It took one kiss and I’m
right back where I was before. I can’t go through that heartbreak again,” she said, then sighed heavily. “Then last night when we were up in the attic looking at the stars, he and I . . .”
“Oh my God, you did it.”
“Did what?” Carmen asked.
“You and Dean made love last night—finally.”
“No. Not finally. We didn’t go that far last night. We came very close though. But the attic is where he proposed to me years ago, so we . . .”
“Whoa, back up. You never told me any of this before.”
“Because it didn’t matter. I was engaged for all of one night. He asked the question, I said yes, hoping he’d stay here with me in Hayden. The next morning I was so happy. Then he started talking about us leaving after his graduation ceremony.”
“So that’s when he backed out?” Jessie asked.
“No, I did. I told him I couldn’t marry him and he should just leave.”
“What, why?”
“You know I couldn’t just walk away from this place. Hayden is my home, and I knew I had responsibilities. I asked him to stay here with me before then, but he refused. He had to go. I understood. Not everyone is cut out for small-town life.”
“So he left and that was it,” Jessie surmised.
Carmen nodded. “Basically, but now ten years later he’s back and I can feel it starting all over again. I swear, when he and I are together, I just lose all sense of judgment and I can’t get enough of him. Yesterday I took him to his suite. I grabbed him and kissed him. Can you believe it? Just like that. And then this morning I was so busy watching his rear end that I grabbed a hot pan and burned my hand. And what happened next? I wound up kissing him again. How does this even keep happening?”
“You still want him and he still wants you—that’s how it keeps happening,” Jessie said. “I remember the two of you when we were younger. From the very beginning, it was like you were made for each other. Maybe it’s fate.”
“There’s no such thing as fate,” Carmen proclaimed.
“Fine. So how did you leave it with him?”
“He wants us to be friends again.”
“Can you do that? Can you just be his friend?”
A Christmas Kiss Page 6
