“Maybe I can fold napkins. I’m good at that.”
“Maybe.” The heavy door closed behind them as they stamped their feet on the entry rug to wipe off any snow.
Ava jumped up to peer through the beveled glass of the inner door. “Pops! I see Pops!” She flung the door open and raced inside.
By the time Jo pressed through the door, Ava was in Pops’s arms, chatting with the brawny man beside him, Earl Camden.
“Who’s this little one?” Earl asked, winking at Ava. “Are you a Christmas angel?”
She giggled. “No. I’m just a girl.”
“This is Ava, Jo’s daughter.” Pops nodded at Jo.
“I don’t believe it!” Earl gasped. “You’re a real girl!” He turned to Jo. “The last time I saw her, she was a wee little thing.”
“They grow up so fast,” Jo said. “It’s good to see you in town, Earl. The inn misses you.”
He waved dismissively. “Aw, your pops keeps it all under control. I’d like to get here more often, but it’s hard with the grandkids in Baltimore and the condo in Boca. Wendy says she just can’t take the cold anymore.”
“Well, it’s good to see you.” Jo squeezed his arm. “Give Wendy our best.”
“I will, and thanks for helping out tonight. I understand your pops sent an SOS out to the family.”
“It’s all good,” Pops said, jiggling Ava in his arms. “Everyone can use the work this time of year.”
“Good.” Earl nodded. “If you’ll excuse me, I think my dinner guests have arrived.”
As he left them, Jo reached over to straighten her father’s red bow tie. “You’re really spruced up tonight, Pops.”
“We have a wedding reception upstairs,” he explained. “It’s good to see Earl, right?”
“It is. Wasn’t he just here last week?”
“I know ... he stayed away for three months, and now two visits in two weeks. The rumor mill is churning.”
“Saying what?”
“That he wants to sell the inn.” When Jo winced, he shrugged. “Sounds crazy, I know. But Earl just said it himself. He just can’t get here often enough.” He tipped his face down toward his granddaughter. “Miss Ava, how would you like to help your nanna at the front desk?”
As Ava nodded contentedly and they all began to cross the lobby, Jo soaked up the ambiance of the old building, with its hand-hewn banisters, wide plank hardwood floors, and gas fireplaces.
How she loved this place.
Any time of year, the inn was the central pulse of Woodstock, but, now, decorated for Christmas, it surrounded her with its cozy embrace. The lobby was decked in garland speckled with twinkling white lights and clusters of red and purple Christmas balls festooned with fat ribbons. In the corner sat the tree that Jo and Molly had decorated, with its fat red poinsettias, embossed burgundy ribbons, and silver glass icicles.
She used to play hide-and-seek with her brothers in this lobby. They would race up the stairs to see who could deliver towels first. She learned how to bake with Earl’s wife, Wendy, in the big industrial kitchen, and she and Fran had spent a few summers earning a quarter for each weed pulled from the gardens out back.
“Earl isn’t going to sell this place,” Jo told her father.
“I hope you’re right, sport.” He deposited Ava on a tall stool behind the front desk. Next to her, Irene was helping a guest with a phone reservation. She waggled her fingers at Jo, then turned back to the date book.
Jo kissed Ava’s forehead. “You be a good girl and help Nanna, okay? I’m going to help Pops serve people their food.”
“Okay, Mommy.” Ava was already busy putting loose pens and pencils into a cup.
Jo turned away to follow her father through the dining room to the kitchen, but an elegantly dressed couple talking with Earl Camden at table four caught her eye. Although she couldn’t see their faces, Jo noted the man’s classic dark suit and the woman’s blond hair swept back and held with a sapphire blue clasp, which glimmered in the lights. She wore the satin dress and high heels of a woman going ballroom dancing—certainly not a local who’d come to the inn for dinner.
Who were they?
Her question was answered a moment later as she followed her father across the dining room and saw the woman’s face.
Clarice Diamond. And the man beside her was her husband, Sid; Jo recognized him from news photos.
“Pops ...” Jo waited until they were in the loud clatter of the kitchen. “Did you see who Earl is having dinner with?”
He nodded. “Nice-looking couple.”
“Pops, that man is Sid Diamond, the real estate mogul. Diamond Resorts?”
“Really? The big clubs that have ninety pools and hot tubs?” He seemed amused. “Earl never mentioned Sid Diamond.”
She tied an apron behind her back. “Pops, I have a bad feeling about this.”
“And as far as we know, that’s just a feeling, Joanne,” he said sternly. “Don’t you go starting rumors.” He wiped the back of his hand over his brow. “Diamond Resorts. Earl would never do that to us.”
“You’re probably right, Pops. Nothing to worry about now, right?”
He flashed a smile before ducking back into the dining room, but Jo could tell it was forced.
That night, after Ava was tucked in and Molly was in her room studying, Jo slipped out into the cold night and headed across the lane toward the main house.
She pulled her jacket closer, shivering. Stars glimmered in the night like a spilled satchel of diamonds—and she thought of Sid Diamond and his offer to buy the inn, which Earl had confirmed before she’d left that night. Sid Diamond and his super resorts ... If he had his way, the inn would be torn down before the spring thaw.
One man held the power over so many lives. It just didn’t seem fair.
The possibility of Woodstock losing its inn kept her from sleep, but she didn’t want to disturb Molly from her studies. Although it was late, she had decided to take a chance and see if Tommy was right about Sam hanging out in their parents’ garage most nights.
There was no answer when she knocked, and she realized how ridiculous it was to be standing here, at the outside door to her own parents’ garage, knocking. She had turned away to go in the back door of the house when the door to the garage squeaked open.
“Jo?” Sam stood in the doorway, a baseball hat clamped over his head. “It is you. Is everything okay?”
“I just ... I needed someone to talk to and Tommy said that you might be here working on the car.”
“Yeah.” His left hand rose to cover the side of his head. “Okay. Come on in, but watch your step. I’m going to kill the lights.”
He hit the switch and the garage went dark, but for the string of colored lights above the workbench.
“Is Tommy here?” she asked, looking around. The Mustang was off the blocks, now supported by tires with fancy wheel rims.
“Nah, it’s just me.”
“Good.” She knew Tommy would be equally upset about the uncertain fate of the inn, and she didn’t want to burden him with it yet.
Sam edged over to the sink to wash his hands, hiding his left side as he moved. “I’d offer you a seat, but there’s really nowhere to sit.”
She glanced around. “You’re right.” She thought about going inside, but the idea of sneaking a boy into her parents’ house after midnight seemed scandalous, even if she was in her twenties.
“Hold on.” He circled the back of the car, then opened the driver’s-side door. “This baby’s off the blocks. We can sit in here.”
She opened the passenger door and slid into the deep bucket seat. The silver Mustang charm on the dashboard gleamed against the smooth vinyl. “Hey, you guys have been working on the interior.”
“A little Armor All does wonders.”
“But you get the driver’s seat?” She folded her arms across her chest.
“Of course. I’m the man.” He ran his hands over the outer edge of the steering wheel,
then gripped it at two and ten. “So what’s up?”
Jo sank into the deep seat and stared through the windshield at the glowing colored lights. “Earl is looking to sell the Woodstock Inn, and the buyer is this big deal real estate developer who will probably turn it into a three-ring circus.”
“The Woodstock Inn.” He frowned. “That place has always been an institution around here. Wasn’t the building originally the train station back in the day when the whole town was just a stop on the railroad?”
She nodded. “My father has been managing the inn for years, and it employs half of our family. This is going to kill Pops. We grew up in that place, had our run of it.” She squeezed her eyes closed as she recalled the old days at the inn. “We can’t let them tear it down.”
She felt the warm pressure of Sam’s hand on her thigh, and thought how bittersweet to feel the touch of a man in this low moment. Suddenly she felt drained of energy.
“I don’t know why I’m taking this so personally. It’s not as if I own the inn. And I’m so tired of working twenty-four-seven with nothing to show for it. But if we lose the inn, this town’s as good as done.”
“You can’t give up yet,” he said. “You’ve got to fight the battle. The inn is worth fighting for, right?”
“Of course, but how do you fight someone like Sid Diamond? He’s got more power and money than the whole state of New Hampshire.”
“So you need a strategy. You won’t win against him. So you undermine him. Get to Earl. Find out what it would take for him to hold on to the inn. I know he thinks he’s ready to sell, but he’s got some attachments here. When push comes to shove, I don’t think he’ll give up on this town.”
Jo thought of her brief exchange with Earl earlier, his praise of her father, the way he’d teased Ava as if she were his own granddaughter. “Earl is a great guy,” she said. “We can at least try to talk to him.”
“Right. That’s a start. And if he doesn’t budge, you still have options. The town won’t go out without a fight, but you’d have to get people on board ... the mayor and the merchants. Who’s mayor now, anyway?”
“Steve Balfour. His construction company built half the condos at Loon Mountain. Remember him from high school?”
“Student body president, yeah. If Earl can’t be swayed, you go to the people.” Sam turned to her, his features barely visible in the dim light. Still, there was no mistaking that strong jawline and the spark in his eyes.
How she longed to run her hand along that jaw.
“You’ve given me some good ideas,” she said. He reminded her of the Sam she used to know, solid and dependable. “It seemed so hopeless, but there are some alternatives.”
“And if anyone can rally people around here, it’s you. Who else could have sold a dozen personalized signs in one day?”
She snorted. “That’s because I know everyone and their brother.”
“Exactly.” His hand moved down her thigh, squeezing just above her knee.
His touch felt so good. Maybe he meant it as a brotherly show of encouragement, but Jo’s body was taking it seriously, her heart beating like a wild bird in her chest, a poignant want stirring deep within. Oh, to be in Sam’s arms, to be falling through darkness in sync with him ... the fantasy was so palpable in this moment, she had to call him on it.
“You know, when you touch a girl like that, it gets her thinking.”
“Like this?” His hand moved up her thigh, straying dangerously close to the sweet spot, but circling around her hip pocket to squeeze her bottom.
No brotherly intention there. It was definitely sexual, and the reality stirred hot embers of fear and excitement for Jo.
“Oh, now you’re really asking for it.” She turned to face him, hoping to read his expression.
The spark of passion in his eyes defied the shadows. “I’ve always been asking, Jo.”
The air between them was charged with energy, as he closed the space between their lips.
His kiss stole her breath and captured her spirit. She felt herself suspended, like a delicate leaf floating over the palm of his hand, as his mouth moved over hers, tantalizing and playful.
She reached up to hold on, anchoring herself to his shoulders as she slid into the kiss. Everything around them intensified—the charged air, their racing hearts, the heat firing up inside both of them. Jo didn’t have to guess if Sam was right here with her; she could tell by the groan in his throat and the heat of his palms that he felt it, too.
Kissing Sam ... what were the chances of the two of them landing in each other’s arms?
A million to one. A bazillion to one.
But amazing things happened on God’s good Earth. One of his hands moved through the hair at the nape of her neck, sending tingles down her spine. With the other hand, he smoothed circles on her thigh, awakening sensations she had abandoned years ago. They were in their eighth or ninth heady kiss when Jo moved toward him and felt the gear shift between them. Damn!
The thought of more seemed delicious, but she knew that wouldn’t happen anytime soon. Earning Sam’s trust was going to take time. When a guy wouldn’t let you see beneath his hat in the light of day, you had to know it would take some time for trust-building.
And that was fine by Jo’s conscience. Hell, she couldn’t really let him into her bed anytime soon, what with Ava to be taken care of. She figured she had a good thirteen years till Ava went off to college, and then maybe she could allow a romantic relationship into her life ...
He ended the kiss and leaned back slightly. “Something tells me I’ve lost you.”
He was right, but she didn’t want to admit that she’d let her conscience get in the way. “We’re steaming up the windows,” she whispered.
“S’okay. We got Windex.”
“Very funny.” Her eyes opened to see his face just inches from hers. His steely gray eyes seethed with a passion, but they were full of that complex emotion as dark and deep as a spring lake.
“I try.”
Realizing that she was holding onto his shoulders with a death grip, she relaxed her hands and gave a gentle massage. His left shoulder felt knotted and thick—the injury, she suspected.
“Oh ... does it hurt when I do that?”
He shook his head. “But it hurts when we stop kissing.”
She pressed her lips to his, loving the moist, warm contact. “Then we’ll have to keep doing this. A lot. You can call it physical therapy.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” He ran his hands up her back and held her in a solid, possessive embrace that made Jo feel as if he was claiming her for his own. “That’s just what the doctor ordered.”
Chapter 10
The next morning as Jo vacuumed the rug of the shop, she danced a little jump-step in time to a Christmas song on the playlist Molly had made, a rocking song in which a female singer lamented about not wanting to be alone for Christmas.
“All alone on Christmas!” Molly belted out as she hung slender silver icicles on a tree decked with white lights.
Jo switched off the vacuum and turned the sign to OPEN.
“Who does this song?” she called to her cousin.
“Darlene Love. Isn’t it great?”
“Love it.” As Jo used the vacuum hose to tidy up the window display, she visualized herself spending Christmas with Sam this year, all cozied up by the light of a tree. Crazy, yeah, but as she gave the snow globe of Woodstock a shake, she imagined the crackle of a warm fire and the smell of warm apple cider. There’d be a trace of cinnamon on Sam’s lips as they ...
The jingle of the door bells tweaked her out of the lovely daydream, back to reality. Pops’s face was ruddy from the cold as he came in, but Jo was reassured by his cheerful grin. Snowflakes clung to his jaunty cap and dark coat.
“ ’Morning, girls. Brought you some coffees.” He placed a cardboard tray with three cups on the counter.
“God bless you, Uncle Bob.” Molly whisked a cup out of the tray. “I didn
’t get my morning jolt of caffeine yet.”
Jo wheeled the vacuum to the back room. “Mum told you I called?”
When he nodded and took a sip from his cup, she added, “I was really bugged about the Sid Diamond thing last night, but I have a plan. I’m going to talk with Earl, but I figure we should do it together.”
“That’d be a problem. Keith is driving him to the airport now. Taking the next flight back to Florida.”
“What? He can’t ... I need to talk to him.”
“I’m one step ahead of you, kiddo. Had a long conversation with the boss before he left.” He removed his cap, smacked it against his knee. “You weren’t the only one who lost sleep last night.”
Molly abandoned her tree decorating and joined them at the counter. “What’s going on?”
“Earl is thinking about selling the inn. He’s got an offer from that developer Sid Diamond—the one whose wife was in here a few weeks ago?”
Molly nodded so vigorously her hair bobbed. “Yes, I remember. And ... ?”
“Diamond has a reputation for building big spas. Super resorts ... with casinos, if the local laws allow it.” Jo pointed to the picture window of the shop. “Next year at this time, we could be looking out at a giant marquee with flashing lights.”
“Really?” Molly’s brows shot up. “Well, at least that’d give us something to do around here.”
“Moll, have another sip of coffee and come to your senses. It would be tragic.”
Pops frowned at his niece, nodding. “If the inn goes down, I guarantee your shop won’t be too far behind. In fact, I can’t imagine much of the businesses on our main street will stay alive. A resort like that changes the nature of a place. All-inclusive. People don’t want to cross the street to use an ATM or grab a slice of pizza. They get it all under one roof. All delivered to their room, if they want.”
“Oh.” Molly’s lips puckered. “I get it. It’s about preserving Woodstock, which would be overwhelmed by something like that.”
“Exactly. The Woodstock Inn holds this town together. It’s the glue of this place.” Pops smoothed the lining of his cap, his eyes lined by gray circles. “It’d be a tragedy for this town.”
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