A Christmas Affair: A Seaside Cove Romance (Seaside Cove Romance Series Book 1) (3 page)

Molly chewed on her pencil as Doug Sanders slammed his hammer down on the old wooden teacher's podium. Doug was the president of the Dickens Council, and entirely too serious about his job if you asked anyone but Molly. Molly however, believed his seriousness and passion for rules and order were integral parts to a happy Dickens season. Doug's tall dark and handsome was enough to make most girls swoon, including Molly last year. However, after working closely with him on the Dickens Council she discovered that two Christmas enthusiasts did not make a sane pairing. She was almost sure he never picked up on her crush, or at least no more of a crush than any other woman in town had on him. She felt lucky about that too, because Jeremy was the jealous type.

To Doug's left sat Bridget Smith, the tall blond bimbo looking but smart as a tack Vice President on the council. She was also sarcastic as hell which made Molly both crave her friendship and want to run like hell from it. Finally, between Molly and Bridget was the handsome and broad shouldered Eli Dunlap. He moved to town from the city with his parents when Molly was away at college, and they dated for a few months when she came back. His absolute contentment at working at his dad’s gas station for the rest of his life had been a quick turn off for a young and idealistic Molly though, and their physical attraction fizzled out. Molly sat with her pencil poised above the crisp blank page of the composition notebook, ready to fulfill her secretarial duties of taking notes.

Molly pressed the pencil to the top of the legal pad to write the day’s date and jumped a little when the lead snapped. Doug rolled his eyes at her, likely thinking about the fact that he kept reminding Molly to bring a laptop. He looked around the room at the gossiping crowd, and motioned towards the back of the classroom.

"Sorry Doug," she shrugged, smiling shyly at him. "I'm just gonna go..."

Molly quickly walked towards the back of the classroom that served as the Dickens Council meeting room. She shivered as she passed by the windows, feeling the draft from the winter chill. She had resisted the urge to scan the Main Street business owners as they filtered in, pretending like she was busy texting. In all honesty, she just did not want to look around and chance seeing Jack's smoldering glare again.

Still feeling guilty for the emotions she entertained the night before when she saw Jack, Molly had been trying to think happy thoughts about her boyfriend all morning. It was not doing much good to get the vision of Jack's large arms and green eyes out of her head though.
Jack
. Molly sighed then shook her head.
Stop thinking about him!

Instead Molly concentrated on the Rudolph pencil in her hand, and jabbing it into the old school pencil sharpener attached to the wall. As she listened to the pencil shaving and the sound of mixed conversation around the room, she looked over one shoulder then the next. Stretching and accounting for all the Main Street owners.

He's not here!
She realized in surprise.

She tapped her pencil against her thigh and spun around to look again, her long auburn hair spinning around her shoulders. He was definitely not there. She stomped her way back up the aisle and threw herself down into her seat at the head of the room behind the long desk.
Why do you care?
She scolded herself.
It's not about Jack, exactly, it's Dickens village and everyone is supposed to be here!

"What's wrong with you?" Eli asked. Molly smelled the spearmint coming off his breath as he spoke. Even when they dated he had been a chewing gum addict.

"Jack Millings isn't here," she whispered venomously. Eli looked around and shrugged. "He has beer lights hanging up in his doorway."

"He does own a bar Mols," Eli said.

"He owns a bar in Dickens Village for the next four weeks." Molly jabbed a finger in Eli's direction, and the man rolled his eyes. "There were no beer bottle Christmas lights in the 18th century." Molly scanned the room again quickly, then turned her frustration on Eli. "Why are you on the committee anyway if you don't care about authenticity?"

"I'm pretty sure there were no twinkling white Christmas lights back then either," Bridget leaned over Eli to whisper at Molly. Molly shot her a daggered look and Bridget leaned back into her own seat again. She mumbled," Authenticity."

Molly noticed Eli looked a little red around the ears and his checks. "Eli, are you okay? You have a fever or something?"

Eli shook his head and glared at Molly.
Oh, I get it
. She had not noticed before, but maybe Eli had a thing for Bridget? Bridget was more serious than the girls Eli usually ran around with, but maybe he was growing up.

Molly jolted straight up in her seat as a loud boom rang out, and she realized it was a fist hitting the desk in front of her. She slowly turned to see who had hit the table, and felt herself flame just as Eli had a moment ago.

Jack was standing right in front of Molly, nostrils flared, breathing heavy. He had a cross between irritation and plain anger in his eyes, and Molly puffed herself up ready for whatever argument he was presenting to the Council
. Is it me, or is he even sexier when he is mad?
He had been mad the night before too when the drunk man propositioned Molly, and seeing him angry now made her think of that moment. He had defended her honor, she realized as her blush deepened a little more.

Jack was still standing in front of her, not speaking. Molly dug her fingernails into her thighs and forced herself to break the silence.

"Jack, I'm glad you made it." The words sounded forced, even to Molly. "I believe you were the last Main Street owner we were waiting on." Jack picked up the piece of paper he had slammed onto the desk and waved it around in front of her.

"What is this?" He demanded, and Molly trembled at the sound of his gruff voice.

"A piece of paper- I do believe," Molly said with the largest and brightest smile she could retrieve. She heard her voice getting higher with each word, but could do nothing to stop it. "Now, if you'll have a seat, I believe Doug wanted to start. Doug?"

She looked over to Doug as she called out his name, finally breaking her eye contact from Jack. Doug was looking over in mild interest but did not answer. Molly turned to Eli for support, but he cleared his throat and turned to study a map on the wall.

"This is not just a normal piece of paper. This is another one of your Dickens bullshit propaganda," Jack growled.

"Propaganda might be taking it a little far," Molly tried to chuckle and break the tension, but as the laugh left her mouth Jack's eyes narrowed.

"I petitioned the council to leave my bar out of this nonsense. It's too much work for me to convert everything to "a pleasant 18th century quiet English pub"," Jack's voice oozed sarcasm. "Not to mention the money. For what? One month a year, that I don't even benefit from." Jack's voice raised and as he turned around to address the twenty or so business owners in the room. "I suppose I'm the only one here, aren't I? I sure am. I am the only one who does not benefit from this Dickens Village every year. Instead I lose the few costumers I do have for the month because you're all out playing around in costumes."

"Why is it that you feel like you don't benefit from the Village?" Doug asked finally finding his way to the podium.

Jack's voice seemed to lower and become steady again as he realized he had the full attention of the council. "I have an over 21 business, and in case you didn't notice, Dickens is mostly families with small children. None of them are leaving their kids out on the street like a-" Jack reached his hands around in the air as though he was searching for the right words. "18th century Dickens street urchin- so they can come in and buy a beer.

"When I woke up this afternoon I found this on my front door," Jack began waving the flier around again as Molly sat back in her seat, bobbing her head around trying to read what it said. "From another overzealous Christmas enthusiast!"

He threw the flier at Molly and walked to the back row collapsing into an empty seat. Molly snatched the flier up from where it had fallen on the floor and read it aloud. "All outdoor Christmas decorations must be approved by Dickens Council. Right, well we all know that? Any and all decor placed outside of a business in the spirit of mocking the holiday festival, will be seized by the city. Oh."

"Where are my lights Molly Smith?" Jack asked, kicking up his steel toed boots on the desk in front of him. This was not Molly's work, but he was convinced it was.

"I don't know," she stammered.

"Oh they just magically disappeared, maybe ran off with the spirit of Christmas?" Jack asked propping his hands behind his head.

"Now, Mr. Millings, there is no reason so act so rude," Bridget said with a disgusted voice, but Molly thought she was probably enjoying the drama. Drama at Molly's expense.

"Molly had nothing to do with the flier or the beer lights being confiscated," Doug said. "I did that on my own first thing this morning Jack. You know, you benefit from the small business council year round, but when it comes to the Dickens Village, you act as though we are asking you to run naked through the streets on Christmas day- okay no. You'd probably do that one."

There was a small chuckle that ran through the men in the room, and a couple of high pitched uncomfortable women giggles. Molly thought they must have been thinking about Jack running down Main Street Christmas morning, naked except for steel toed boots and a Santa hat. Maybe a scarf too, they were not barbarians. Molly snorted, then blushed a little as she looked up to see Jack looking at her yet again. Quizzical expression on his face, but she could tell he was also irritated with Doug's joke.

"I want my decorations back," Jack said to Doug, but did not take his eyes off Molly. She stared back, willing herself not to break the eye contact, but she was feeling dizzy from his energy. His penetrating stare was too hard for her to read.

"I will drop them off this evening Jack, and you can hang them up inside. But nothing non-approved outside," Doug answered. He was a commanding man, but Molly could tell Jack was making him nervous too. Not many were willing to be on the other side of Jack's temper. It had never bothered Molly in high school, she had seen Jack almost get into several fights with other hot headed boys. She had always been able to calm him down. She could try again now.

"Right, so now that is established," Molly nodded at both Jack and Doug using the calmest and most commanding voice she could muster. "Perhaps we could get on with the meeting. Some of us do have work to do today."

"Thank you Molly," Doug said and turned back to the group. "We do actually have an urgent piece of business to discuss this morning. Mr. and Mrs. Boughman, please come on up."

Molly stole another glance in Jack's direction. He still had his gaze focused on her and nothing else. She forced herself to suck in a breath, and let it out without making a sound. She made herself turn her focus onto the two people Doug had called up.

Mr. and Mrs. Boughman were a loved couple of retired elementary school teachers in their late sixties. His hair was as white as the snow, and hers was died a fire engine red. When Mr. Boughman approached the podium he waited two beats for Doug to step to the side. Doug bowed his head and took a seat as Mr. Boughman turned to address the room.

"As you all know Mrs. Boughman's health has been acting up this year, we've had to go to the city a few times for treatments. Well, great news is that a spot in a treatment facility has opened down south, and they have room for us. It’s a real top of the line place where cutting edge medical advances are happening." Mr. Boughman looked lovingly at his wife, pulling her hand to his mouth and kissing it. The room broke out in happy murmurs for the couple and congratulations. "But there is one problem."

Molly's stomach clenched. What could it be? Could they need money to get into the clinic? If so, she was sure the whole town would stand by them and help raise the money for her medical care.

"We have to leave immediately, and we hate to do that to you, this time of year and all." Mr. Boughman looked around the room, as if asking for forgiveness, but at the same time, daring anyone to say anything at all. Molly felt confused. Of course they wanted all their stores to be represented at the Dickens festival, but surely- oh. It hit her like a ton of bricks.

"Of course you do, health is what is most important," Bridget said standing up to hug Mrs. Boughman. "We will find someone else to play Santa and Mrs. Claus!"

The Boughman's were one of their main attractions, a staple in their brochure and to their parade every year. How could they back out just weeks before Christmas? Of course, Molly kicked herself, she understood perfectly well why. They could not ignore any health issues Mrs. Boughman had, and if there was a chance she could get better, they had to take it. But still... They had played the role of Santa and Mrs. Claus perfectly for the past thirty years. They even converted the front room of their shop to Santa's Workshop during the Dickens Village.

"Santa's Workshop," Molly muttered, almost feeling a tear spring to her eye. The Workshop had been there long before Dickens Village. It was there for her when she was a small girl, with all the wonder of the season presented in one room. No matter how bad things had been at home and for her family, she always knew that she could go to Santa's Workshop at the holidays and be given a hug, a hot chocolate, and a small gift. Even the years her family could not buy her and her sister a single gift for Christmas, she could always count on Santa to give her a new deck of cards, a container of colorful dough, or a large candy bar.