Christmas Comes to Main Street (21 page)

She should have waited. Given her notice after they'd gotten married. Made sure they had a proper honeymoon. But then… they still hadn't set a date. And her dreams had been on hold for so long.

“We're going on a short honeymoon, yes,” Anna said, to Kara's relief. “We're going up to Cedar Valley Resort for a few days. It was where we reunited and… it holds special meaning.”

“But a wedding!” Ivy said in alarm.

“It can be done on short notice. Look at Molly.”

At this, all eyes turned to Molly, who seemed uncomfortable at the sudden shift in attention. “Yes, but I'm sort of an expert at wedding planning. I already had my checklist ready to go.”

“Mark and I don't want something elaborate,” Anna said, sighing. “We're getting married here, in this house. I can't think of a venue that could top this,” she said, opening her arms to the glittering room.

No, Kara thought, she couldn't either. It was like a page out of a magazine. A very expensive, very professional magazine.

“Will you all be able to make it?” Anna asked worriedly.

“Of course,” Kara reassured her. “Where else would we be?”

“I'll come back for the weekend,” Molly assured her.

“Then a toast,” Grace said, raising her glass. “To the soon-to-be Mrs. Mark Hastings!”

Kara raised her glass, overwhelmed at the thought of Anna joining her extended family, but a little part of her began to sink when she realized that yet again, she'd be attending a wedding on her own.

The past few days with Nate had been enough to make her see what she'd been missing. And what would be gone again, and all too soon.

F
or the third time since she'd arrived at Sugar and Spice that morning, Kara was grateful that the shop was closed on Mondays. Already her mother had called four times, in a tizzy about something with
The Nutcracker
, and Kara knew that Luke was already over at the auditorium, helping with the scenery.

Molly was scheduled to go over two hours before curtain call, to help with hair and makeup, and technically all Kara needed to worry about were the cookies and the food and toy drive, but twice she'd been asked to pick up last-minute necessities, like some silk ribbon for Clara's sash, and some bobby pins, just in case…

In between the calls and the baking, she put the finishing details on her Holiday House entry, more driven than ever after seeing Kathleen's effort the night before. Hurrying to finish some piping around the chimney, her hand slipped, and some royal icing dribbled onto the roof. Kara cursed under her breath and grabbed a paper towel to wipe it away before it set.

“Calm down,” Molly ordered through a mouthful of cookie. “You'll do a better job if you aren't rushing. I still wish you'd stop standing in front of the thing and let me see it already. Are you really going to make me wait? What's the mystery?”

Kara managed to sop up the mess before disaster occurred, then took a step back. She brushed the hair from her forehead with the back of her hand and sighed. She felt hot and agitated and entirely too overwhelmed. “I don't know why I'm even bothering with this. Everyone knows Kathleen Madison is going to win. She always wins.”

“So? Maybe this isn't her year.” Molly plucked another coconut macaroon from the tray and broke it in half before cramming one piece into her mouth.

Kara eyed her steadily over her shoulder while shielding the bulk of the gingerbread house with her body. She wondered if it was worth her time to have a conversation about those being for tonight's
Nutcracker
bake sale and decided it wasn't. She could always make more, and who knew how many would sell anyway.

“You saw Kathleen's house last night,” Kara said, giving her sister a pointed look.

Molly polished off the second half of the cookie and winced. “Yeah. I did.”

Kara shut her eyes, but only for a moment. She still had to decorate the last batch of snowflake cookies for the inn and then get back in time to shower and prepare for tonight. She eyed the gingerbread house, feeling almost as sad for it as she did for herself. It was everything she'd hoped it would be, exactly as she'd pictured it, but it wouldn't be enough. How could it? She couldn't make it glow or sparkle. It was edible. An edible house. What made her ever think she could compete with the real thing?

Nate, she thought, smiling a little sadly to herself. Nate had challenged her, but he'd always made her almost believe she could win.

Huffing out a breath, she picked up her piping bag and began working on the cookies for tea. She hadn't seen Nate since the Winter Festival, and she didn't really know what she'd say when she saw him again. He'd been asking about her, and that excited her. More than it probably should. Already that kiss was fading away. That was probably for the best, too.

When the cookies were ready, Molly arranged them in a box while Kara grabbed her hat and coat from the hook on the back of her office door.

“Don't you need to get over to the dance studio to help Mom soon?” she asked.

“I told her you needed me,” Molly said, her expression turning pleading. “I'll go over after lunch, but… I just want to put it off as long as possible.”

Kara laughed under her breath. Molly should be helping their mother; they both knew that. But they also knew just how tense things were at the studio right now. She didn't blame her sister for hiding out for a bit.

“I'll be back in a few minutes,” she said, hoping that wouldn't exactly be the case. “And
no
peeking at the gingerbread house! Feel free to help yourself to whatever else you'd like.”

Molly lit up as she reached for a piece of candy cane fudge. “Don't mind if I do.”

Kara shook her head as she pushed through the kitchen door and into the empty storefront. Molly had never been one to indulge in sweets—she was always too worried about her weight. And with a wedding just around the corner, she'd expected her sister to announce some crazy fad diet instead of a sugar bender.

She smiled to herself. Molly was probably just getting caught up in the magic of the holidays. It was an easy thing to do in Briar Creek.

Nate set down the paintbrush and sighed. He knew his aunt had requested a painting to go along with the theme of her contest entry, but he hoped she would like what he created more than that. It had been too long since he'd last picked up a brush—years, maybe even a decade—but once he'd started, he'd found he couldn't stop. The hours went by and he'd barely even noticed. And now it was almost time for Kara's daily visit, he realized with a jolt.

After tucking the canvas into the bathroom, where he hoped his aunt wouldn't be inclined to go, he closed the door to his suite and jogged down the stairs to the lobby. He paused at the bottom, admiring the way the room looked, so festive and warm and alive and cheerful, the way his aunt's face shone as she talked to the guests, offering up suggestions, pride in her voice, and… passion.

Would she really give this all up? Retire, close it down, or worse—move out and sell to a stranger? She was right; no one could love this place as much as she did. No one could appreciate its history, its value, on an emotional level.

He'd spent so much time assessing businesses for their extrinsic worth, not their intrinsic value, and this old house was overflowing with it… much like Kara's bakery, he thought, as she stepped through the front door.

He raised his hand to meet her, noticing the shy smile she gave him as she stomped the snow from her boots. His gut tightened at the pretty way her lips curved, the way her eyelashes fluttered for a moment before she looked down at the doormat.

He hadn't seen her yesterday, and that had disappointed him. A lot. And that disappointment had caught him by surprise, made him realize just how hard he was falling for her. Concern over how Kara might feel if he beat her in the contest reared sharp, and he shifted his gaze to his aunt, tightening a fist against his jeans with conflicted loyalty.

“Hello,” she said brightly as he came to greet her.

“Hello,” he said, letting his gaze rove over her pretty face. Her cheeks were pink, as was the tip of her nose, and her hands were like ice when his thumb grazed her skin as she passed him the box of cookies. “You're freezing.”

“People can thaw,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at him.

He caught the meaning at once, took it for what it was: the truth. He had thawed in the brief time he'd been in this cozy little town. The walls he'd built without even knowing were starting to come down piece by piece, and for the first time in years, he felt free. Free of the demons of his past. Free to be himself. Free to look forward to the simple pleasures again.

“I missed seeing you yesterday,” he admitted.

Her expression was pleased. “I heard you ran into the Madisons,” she said.

“Ah, yes,” he said, recalling the group of attractive women who had come for holiday tea. “At long last, I can finally say I have met the famous Kathleen Madison.”

“And?”

Nate rolled back on his heels, remembering the way his aunt had tensed, her eyes darting this way and that, the way she'd set a hand on his arm, her grip surprisingly tight, and assessed the decorations they'd worked so hard on this past week.

“And she seemed like a very nice woman. She handled my aunt's questioning like a pro,” Nate said.

Kara laughed. “Well, she has a lot of experience. What was it that your aunt was fishing for?”

Nate lifted an eyebrow. “Let's just say her questions were all answered at last night's cookie swap. My aunt came home last night talking of nothing but how beautiful Kathleen's house was.”

Kara cringed. “It was… exquisite.”

“Aw, come on. It's a house. How great could it be?”

“So great that someone who couldn't find time to squeeze in a wedding was suddenly inspired enough to tie the knot next week. On the premises.” Kara shrugged. “Granted it's Kathleen's daughter, and a New Year's Eve wedding does sound romantic.”

Nate frowned. By New Year's Eve he'll have been back in Boston for a week, and Kara would still be here, in this cute little town, dressed in something sexy that showed off her smooth skin and pretty face, and quite possibly, on the arm of another man. He shook away the thought, not wanting to dwell on it. His life was in Boston, his job, his parents… And those were things he couldn't give up.

“So, are you, uh, taking a date?”

Kara blinked, sputtered on a laugh. “What? No. No.” A blush crept up her neck. Aw, damn. She was cute. It was taking everything in him not to kiss right here and now. “Unless…”

He stiffened. “I'll be back in Boston by then, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” She eyed him.

Nate ran a hand through his tousled hair, suddenly feeling agitated. “The thought of going back to that office on Monday suddenly leaves me cold.”

“I thought you loved your job,” Kara remarked.

Nate frowned and held her stare. “I did, too. But being away… It's easy to get lazy,” he joked. More like it was easy to forget. His past. His future. His promise to himself.

Kara's eyes drifted to the clock, and her expression tightened. “I should get back to the shop. Molly's helping out today, and I'm afraid if I don't get back soon she'll have eaten all the cookies I've made for tonight's show.”

“I plan on bringing the toys over ahead of time. Does five o'clock work?”

“Five sounds perfect. My mom is there all afternoon, but I should be there by then to help.”

“I'm looking forward to it,” Nate said, grinning.

“Well.” She huffed out a breath and turned to go, but Nate's hand was light on her wrist and discreet enough that prying eyes might not notice.

“I'll walk you out,” he said. He turned over his shoulder and called to his aunt, “I'll salt the path again, Maggie.”

Maggie's eyes lit up as she beamed at her nephew. “Don't forget a hat, now. Or something for your hands. Those mittens I found for you are so warm. I do wish you'd wear them.”

Kara giggled into her scarf as she pushed out onto the front stoop. “Mittens?”

Nate nailed her with a look. “At least they're not pink.”

Kara laughed. “She adores you.”

“And she forgets that I'm not eleven.” Nate shook his head, suddenly looking a little sad. “But you're right. She does adore me. Why, I don't know. I hardly deserve it.”

“Oh, now here's where I disagree. Not every nephew would spend his Christmas holiday decorating an old inn. It's one of the things I like about you. Even if you have turned out to be stiff competition.”

“You're giving me too much credit,” he said. “And you don't give yourself enough.”

She blushed, and he reached out and stroked her cheek with his thumb. She was an accomplished girl, and not just because of her bakery. He saw the way she treated people, the way they responded to her. She was a catch. And he wasn't ready to let her go just yet.

Nate leaned in, wanting to finish what they'd started the other night. He could anticipate her taste just before his lips grazed hers, but the feel of her mouth on his was even better than he remembered, sending heat coursing through his veins as she opened her mouth wider to his, letting him in.

He pulled back, stopping himself before he got too carried away. It was too easy to get lost in the moment, to forget that they were standing outside the inn, where his aunt could be peeking through the lace curtains, no doubt suppressing a squeal.

“I'll see you in a few hours then,” he said.

Kara nodded. “Don't remind me. There is always so much buildup to this day, and then it goes by too quickly. There's still so much to get done.”

“Sounds like a wedding day,” Nate mused. Then, seeing the question in her eye, he said, “Not that I speak from experience.”

“Me neither,” Kara said. “But let's just say that I hope when I do get married, my mother is considerably calmer than she is in the final hours before the show.”

He grinned as she walked down the path, which he now kept salted every day. “Aw, it can't be that bad,” he said.

She turned at the sidewalk and arched an eyebrow. “Can't it? You'll see. Bet you can't wait to come now, huh?”

Bet you I can't
, Nate thought, watching her go.