by Cindy Kirk
“Be sure to dress warmly.” Kate gestured with one hand, though Stella’s feet were safely tucked under the table. “Leave the heels, pull out your Uggs.”
“Got it.” Stella hoped she wouldn’t regret asking, but it was best to be prepared. She forced some enthusiasm into her voice. “How long, ah, will this fabulous night of frivolity last?”
The twinkle in Kate’s eyes told Stella she wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all her friend. “About two hours.”
“Then everyone just goes home?”
“Some do. Some go to the bakery, coffee shop, or one of the restaurants. Those with children can usually be found in the courthouse ballroom, which has been decorated for Christmas. On First Friday, the room is filled with Christmas-themed games for children.”
Stella’s head spun. “So many events, so little time.”
Kate patted her hand sympathetically. “You’ll get tons of great pictures. Do you know what else?”
Stella was almost afraid to ask. “What?”
“You’ll have a whole lot of fun.”
Dressed for an arctic apocalypse, Stella strolled down the street to the imposing courthouse. Even if she hadn’t spoken with Kate or had the email from Faith indicating where tonight’s even was being held, she’d have known exactly where to go.
The main street had been closed to vehicular traffic and there was a surge of bodies going in only one direction.
“Hey, little lady, it’s good to see you again.” The gray-haired man with the handlebar moustache offered her a smile. He had a little girl in each hand.
He must have caught her look because he grinned. “My two grands, Addie and Allison. Their mom and grandma are each working games inside the ballroom.”
“There’s a bazillion lights on the tree,” Addie informed her.
“Once they turn on, Grandpa is going to take us to see Santa.” Allison gazed up at the older man as if seeking confirmation.
“Yer darn tootin.” The man shot his granddaughter a wink.
They were nearly to the courthouse when Stella placed the man. He’d been one of a foursome playing cards at the Busy Bean the day she arrived in town.
She recalled seeing Kenny walk over to the table and place a hand on the man’s shoulder as if they were friends.
“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Stella Carpenter. I’m handling the social media for the Christmas season.” Stella smiled. “I remember seeing you at the Busy Bean the first day I arrived. You’re a friend of Kenny’s.”
“And of Norma’s too. Stood up for Kenny at their wedding.” The man returned Stella’s smile, showing a large gap between his front teeth. “Name’s Larry Kotopka.”
As the crowd neared the courthouse, Stella saw Larry’s gaze searching the crowd. Searching for what? His son-in-law? A friend?
“I bet it’s nice having,” Stella paused, conscious of the closeness of little ears, “Santa Claus as a good friend.”
Larry returned his attention to Stella. “Holly Pointe couldn’t have picked a better man for the job.”
“Agreed.” Stella thought quickly, had to think quickly, because she knew in a second Larry would be gone. “It’s got to be stressful.”
She started to say more, then left it at that. At the beginning of her career, she’d discovered that creating a presumptive sentence got her more answers than a direct question.
Whoever she was speaking with usually assumed she already knew the information they were about to reveal.
“Yeah, Norma’s diagnosis hit him hard.” Larry made a sound between his teeth as he shook his head.
Norma’s diagnosis?
Stella thought of the jovial woman with the white hair and ready smile. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Though Norma didn’t look sick, that was no guarantee of good health.
“I hope she can beat . . . it.”
“I told Kenny they’ll have many more years together.” Sadness passed like a shadow over Larry’s face. “In time he’ll come to believe me. Right now, he’s struggling with all of it.”
Had he turned to the bottle because of the stress? She wanted to ask but it didn’t feel like the right time.
“I wish I could do something to help him and Norma.” Stella meant every word. She’d grown fond of Kenny and Norma.
Apparently, Larry could hear her sincerity, because he stopped walking and turned to Stella. “There is something you can do.”
“Tell me what it is. I’ll do it.”
“Pray for Norma. Pray for Kenny. That’s what they need most right about now.”
Stella stared for a minute, then slowly nodded. “I will.”
“We’ll see you around.” Larry glanced down at his granddaughters. “Tell Stella Merry Christmas, girls.”
“Merry Christmas, Stella,” the girls said in a single sing-song tone.
“Merry Christmas, Stella.” This time it was decidedly male voice, and a strong arm shot around her shoulders.
Sam pulled her to him, preventing a collision as three teenage boys wearing Santa hats, pushed through the crowd.
“Charlie.” Sam gripped one of the boy’s arms. “This isn’t a football field.”
The boy, broad shouldered and strong as a bull, turned and grinned. “Sorry, Sam.”
The kid bellowed to his friends. “Slow down. You’re not rushing the line.”
“I didn’t know if I’d see you tonight.” Stella couldn’t keep the gladness from her voice.
“I was hoping to run into you,” he said.
“You were?” The words sounded oddly breathless even to her own ears.
“I thought to myself, Who would I like to spend First Friday with? And do you know what?”
Stella couldn’t keep from smiling. “What?”
“Your name was at the top of the list.”
Chapter Eleven
She fit right in. Like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing for so long you weren’t sure of the last time you’d seen it. But once found, it slid in perfectly.
Sam watched Stella charm a couple of tourists from Quebec City. He listened as she conversed with them in flawless French and took their picture.
Stella spoke French?
He’d learned something new about her today.
She turned to Sam. “They want to know when we’re going to light up the tree.”
He liked the we part of that statement. Despite being here only a short time, she was quickly becoming part of the community and his life.
“I’ll be throwing the switch in one minute.” The words had barely left his lips when the countdown clock, temporarily installed on the side of the courthouse, started up.
A roar rose from the crowd as they noticed the movement in the digital clock. They began to count down each second. Fifty-six. Fifty-five.Fifty-four.
Stella leaned close to his ear to be heard. “You flip the switch?”
He nodded, knowing he couldn’t be heard above the crowd. With every second, the crowd had grown louder. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Sam pointed to the app displayed, then to the tree.
Understanding shown in her eyes. There was no need to update the tourists. They were now counting down the numbers with everyone else.
Stella reached for the camera tucked into her bag, then made some adjustments to the settings.
Sam followed her with his eyes as she backed up and jostled for a better position on the steps leading up to the front of the courthouse. Though he understood she was hoping for a better angle, everyone was packed together like sardines with all eyes on the tree.
One glance at his phone’s display confirmed that he had fifteen seconds. Of course, with the crowd counting down, he really didn’t need to look.
Gesturing with his head toward a narrow concrete ledge that flanked both sides of the broad swath of steps, he shoved the phone in his pocket and cupped his hands.
Without hesitating, she put a boot into his hand and sat on the ledge, above the crowd. He kept a hand on
her leg, steadying her. Sam wouldn’t let her fall. He pulled the phone out of his pocket with no time to spare.
“One,” the crowd roared.
Sam hit the button and a million LED lights flashed on.
A huge cheer rose from the crowd, but Sam’s eyes weren’t on the lights or the trees but on Stella who was intently snapping pictures. Of the tree. Of the crowds. Of the amazing lights.
When the music began and everyone started to sing, Sam realized that, just like the sledding, this was a part of the evening that Stella needed to experience, not observe through a camera lens.
“Stella.” Despite the fact that he stood beside her, he yelled her name to be heard over the singing voices.
She continued to snap photos.
There seemed only one way to get her attention.
Sam moved the hand that had been steadying her a couple of inches up her thigh. Through her jeans he felt her muscles tighten, and his body reacted almost immediately.
Her head jerked to the side, and her eyes met his.
Without taking his eyes or his hand off her, he motioned with his free hand for her to come to him.
She shifted on the ledge, swung her leg over, then held out her arms to him. Because it was such close quarters, once back on the steps, she was pressed against him.
Sam leaned down, his lips brushing her ear as he told her, “You need to sing.”
The melody shifted from “Silent Night” to “I’ll be Home for Christmas.” For those unsure of the words, the screen that had held the countdown clock now displayed the lyrics.
It took Stella until they reached the part about “please have snow and mistletoe” to fully join in, but when she sang the words, it felt as if she was singing them directly to him.
Three more songs, and the crowds began to disperse, with many headed into the courthouse, while others lined up for pictures with Santa, and still others made a beeline into various businesses.
Sam was sorry when the people around him stepped away, giving them room to breathe again. He’d liked the feel of her soft curves pressed up against him, the light scent of her perfume teasing his nostrils.
Stella cocked her head. “Why did you want me to stop taking pictures?”
As the sing-along had now concluded, she only had to raise her voice rather than shout to be heard.
“It didn’t have a thing to do with taking pictures,” he told her. “Would you like to go inside the courthouse? We can check out the setup and activities. Not to mention thaw out a bit.”
“Sounds . . . heavenly.”
He chuckled. “Which part?”
“Thawing out, of course.”
They climbed the steps and had stepped inside the warmth when she slanted a questioning glance in his direction. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Sam maneuvered her out of the foot traffic to an alcove by one of the many large windows on the main floor.
“Here’s the deal.” He took a second to collect his thoughts. “Your job is to utilize social media to allow those who aren’t here, or even those who are, to see everything this community has to offer.”
Stella gave a slow nod.
“Pictures tell only part of the story. The rest you convey with words. To do justice to the event, you need to experience it.”
“I was experiencing it,” Stella reminded him. “Taking pictures and experiencing it all firsthand.”
He shook his head. “You were on the outside looking in through your camera lens.”
The confusion on her face told Sam he needed to find another way to explain.
“Think about how you felt when you were singing, when your voice blended with hundreds of other voices.” He expelled the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding when understanding dawned in her eyes.
“You would have never had that same feeling if you’d just kept taking pictures.” He felt a rush of tenderness for her. “I want you to live and breathe life in Holly Pointe. Not only for the sake of your social media posts, but for yourself.”
“Why?”
The question caught Sam off guard. Telling himself the question deserved a thoughtful response, he took a moment to consider.
“You’ve been through a lot in the past two years. You deserve to be fully immersed in the goodness that is this community. To have it wrap its arms around you and give you comfort.” Sam realized too late just how lame that sounded. While true, he could have come up with a better way to say the same thing. “What I meant to say—”
Her hand on his arm stopped the words, and he realized she was standing close. Very close. As close as they’d been outside when there had been no choice.
She had a choice now.
As did he.
Sam remained firmly rooted to where he stood.
Placing the palms of her hands flat against his coat front, Stella gazed up at him. “I want that, too. Thank you for thinking of me.”
He stared down at her beautiful face, his gaze drawn to her full, red lips. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you since you arrived in Holly Pointe.”
“I seem to have the same affliction.” Those tempting lips quirked upward. “I guess we just have to decide where we go from here.”
Though Stella hadn’t been far from his thoughts the past week, he hadn’t given much thought to the likely next step other than spending more time together.
But with his own desire reflected in her hazel depths and her mouth only inches from his, Sam knew exactly what the next step had to be.
He lowered his head and pressed his mouth to hers.
Before Stella had a second to breathe, his lips were on hers, exquisitely gentle and achingly tender. She was quite sure she’d never been kissed like this before. Or perhaps the difference was the emotion behind the melding of lips.
When he stepped back, she wanted to protest. Until she realized they were in a busy hallway. Granted, they were out of the flow of traffic, but they were in full view of anyone passing by.
Still, she found herself seized with an almost overwhelming urge to wrap her arms around his neck and give him a ferocious kiss. Or two. Or three.
Instead, she smiled, and when he moved his arm so that her hand slid down to his, she gave his fingers a squeeze. “That was nice.”
A startled look crossed his face.
“No, I mean it was more than nice.” Stella stumbled over the words in her haste to get them out. “The kiss was fabulous.”
He grinned now, full out. “I can do better.”
“I can, too.” She didn’t take her eyes off his face. “If you want a rematch—”
Stella stopped herself before she continued with the rematch theme. “I seem to be having difficulty expressing myself today. It’s that blasted cologne of yours.”
She loved the way he smelled, a woodsy mixture of cologne and soap and maleness that brought a tingle to her lips and had heat percolating low in her belly.
“You don’t like it?”
“I like it too much,” she admitted.
“I like the way you smell, too. It—”
“What are you doing out here?”
Sam turned toward the feminine voice.
Lucy gazed at them, her brows pulled together.
“We’re talking.” Sam studied Lucy as if trying to figure out the point. “What are you doing?”
“Several of my catering employees are working the booths. I was going to check on them.” Lucy fixed sharp blue eyes on Stella. “I’d have thought you’d be in the ballroom taking pictures.”
Stella hesitated. Granted, Lucy had a lot of clout in the community, but Stella didn’t report to her. However, she didn’t want the woman as an enemy.
“I was immersing myself in the feel of Holly Pointe.” Stella shifted her gaze and smiled up at Sam. “A friend told me it’s something I need to do more often.”
If there had been a fireplace in Stella’s tiny living room, the space would have been perfect. As it was, with the tab
le lamp casting a golden glow and the smell of coffee and chocolate in the air, it was practically perfect.
“I can’t believe you beat out a five-year-old in the cakewalk.” Stella laughed and dipped her fork into the piece of devil’s food.
“The kid already won a whole stash of Christmas goodies.” Sam gave a shrug and leaned back in his chair. “I was saving him and his family from complete sugar overload.”
“Your story is that you were helping him out.”
“Exactly.”
After she and Sam had completed their walk around the ballroom—and Stella had taken an obscene number of pictures—she’d been ready to call it a night.
Almost.
Instead of saying good-night when Sam had walked her to her door, she invited him—and the cake he won—inside for dessert and coffee.
It seemed a fair trade.
He provided the dessert.
She provided the coffee.
Now, fully relaxed, she sat on the sofa with her Uggs off and her feet tucked under her. “I’d never seen a Christmas cakewalk before. Heck, I can’t recall the last time I’ve seen a regular cakewalk.”
For standing on the winning number when the music ended, Sam had been able to choose from plates of decorated sugar cookies, Grinch cupcakes, and several cakes. It had been the devil’s food decorated to look like a reindeer—complete with antlers—that caught his eye. “The cakewalk is always a big hit.”
“Especially with the big kids. There were as many moms and dads as there were kids going around that circle.”
“Kevin loved the Christmas cakewalk.” Sam smiled. “But then, he loved anything and everything to do with Christmas.”
Stella hadn’t wanted to ask Sam much about his brother, but with that comment, he’d opened the door. “What was your brother like?”
When Sam hesitated, she raised a hand. “We don’t need to talk about him if it’s difficult. I know how—”
“No, it’s okay.” He settled back in the chair, his large fingers now wrapped around a red mug. “It’s been four years since Kevin passed, and people don’t mention him all that often anymore. But you know how it is when you lose someone close to you. They’re never far from your thoughts.”
