Christmas Comes to Main Street (5 page)

Kara sighed. There were certainly some limitations to small-town life. Not that she would trade it for the world.

“I just haven't found that spark yet,” she clarified, and Molly nodded sagely. Perhaps that was what Molly and Todd had; perhaps it explained everything. They had a spark. She'd heard it was a powerful thing.

“Besides, where would I meet anyone?”
Wasn't that the truth
, Kara thought to herself. Briar Creek was hardly a viable dating pool, and the one man she'd found interesting in years was just passing through town.

She frowned and tried not to let that thought depress her too much. Her friends insisted she should try online dating, and maybe she would. Once she had the business under control. And Nate's all too handsome face out of her head.

“Okay, I won't push it,” Molly said, holding up two hands in defense. “But I do think that when Mr. Right comes along, he'll have been worth your wait. Let's just hope that he doesn't take too long.” She winked. “Now, where do you need me to deliver these cookies tomorrow?”

“To the inn,” Kara said, happy to have dodged that visit for at least one day. But Briar Creek was small, and chances were she'd be running into Nate again before he left town.

This time, she wasn't looking forward to it. Well, not completely…

Maggie was waiting for him in the lobby when Nate returned a few hours after tea had finished. He stomped the snow off his boots and hung his coat on the rack near the door.

“I made dinner for us,” Maggie said, taking him by the arm and leading him to the back of the inn, where an addition housed her private quarters. Like the inn itself, it was decorated with traditional furnishings, only unlike the inn, there were no decorations in sight. No tree, he noticed as he entered the small sitting room. No stockings, either. Frowning, he followed her into the kitchen, where, as promised, a roast and potatoes were waiting on the stove.

“I thought we could talk about the Holiday House contest,” Maggie said as she plated the food.

“Sure,” Nate agreed, taking a seat opposite the head of the small rectangular table. Did his aunt eat here alone night after night, while her guests went to restaurants? The thought of it saddened him. But then, maybe she liked solitude. Maybe, like him, she was too busy to notice or feel the emptiness. “So, what were you thinking? A little tinsel? A tree near the mantel? Some stockings? Maybe some colored lights on the bay window over there?” He gestured to the sitting room, just beyond the kitchen.

Maggie looked at him in overt shock. “Tinsel?
Colored
lights?” she almost screeched. She began muttering to herself as she crossed the kitchen and took a three-ring binder from a shelf. Instead of bringing him his plate, she set the binder on his place mat with purpose.

Nate stared at the object. “What is this?”

Maggie quietly brought the plates to the table and took her seat. She took her time opening her cloth napkin and setting it in her lap. She took a sip of her wine. “First of all, we'll need a theme. I've envisioned… the twelve days of Christmas.”

Nate slid the binder to the side under his aunt's disapproving pinch of the lips. He took a bite of creamy potatoes, all at once recalling her promise to fatten him up for the holidays, and then thought, to hell with it, and took another. She also seemed determined to give him some work to do, so he didn't need to feel guilty about not hitting the gym.

“Are you familiar with the song?” she asked.

“Um. Vaguely,” Nate replied. He took another bite of his dinner. It was warm and buttery and delicious. But instead of feeling happy, it brought out a sense of sadness in him, a loss that he didn't like to think about. There weren't enough dinners like this growing up, and the few times there were, they were too cherished to even be fully enjoyed. So rare it was almost impossible not to think of how special they were.

He forced another piece of roast into his mouth. No use going down that path. He ate in the best restaurants now. Could afford the best wine, even if he didn't buy it. And his parents… He'd sent his parents on a cruise.

He couldn't undo the pain of their past. But he could sure as hell make up for it now. And he did. And he would. Forever.

“I seem to recall something about a partridge in a pear tree,” he said to his aunt, steering himself back to the present. It was better to stay there, in the current moment, than to dwell on the dark days.

“Well, why don't I remind you?” His aunt set down her fork and began quietly humming before breaking out into song.

Nate felt his jaw slack as her voice croaked on the last line of the first verse, hoping that would be enough, but no, she was going for another round, grinning away, undeterred by an audience. He laughed under his breath for a moment, wondering if this was some sort of joke, his aunt's coy way of getting him into the spirit, but she just narrowed her eyes on him without missing a beat and continued along with the carol.

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but as her voice carried out the long notes, quivering at times the way one might hear in the opera, it took everything in him to force back his smile.

By the fifth verse, he had to bring his fist to his mouth, sinking his teeth into his hand, biting hard enough that he feared he might break the skin, his eyes stinging as his shoulders shook, as his aunt went through all twelve versus.

He could have stopped her at the first—she'd jogged his memory by then, even if she was painfully out of tune—but she seemed to be enjoying herself so much, her voice growing louder and more confident, that he didn't have the heart to hold up a hand.

“Oh, I've brought tears to your eyes.” Maggie gave him an indulgent smile as she picked up her fork and knife, her Christmas carol now finished. “You were always such a sensitive boy. It was a shame that you never had any brothers or sisters, but then…”

She trailed off, and Nate was happy she did. He never knew the reason why his parents never had more children, but it was the practical choice, even if not the emotional one. Both of his parents had worked around the clock to keep a roof over their heads. Another child would have been another expense.

God knew what a burden he was at times.

He reached for his tall glass of milk, again wishing it was something stronger. He'd go down to the pub tonight. The walk would clear his head. The drink… perhaps it might lift his spirits. And maybe Kara would be there… Now there was a thought. From what he'd seen, there was only one bar in town. Although, if last night was any indication, she worked well into the night. He liked a strong work ethic. It made her even more appealing.

Deciding to risk exciting his aunt, he took a sip of milk and set the glass down. “So, Kara… does she come by the inn every day?”

As expected, Maggie's green eyes widened and a knowing smirk curved her mouth. “She supplies the cookies for my holiday tea, so yes, she drops by every day in December. She usually comes by in the late morning, in case you're interested.”

“I didn't say I was interested,” Nate replied. Only he was interested. Very interested. Not just in her pretty face, but in her determination. She stuck up for herself, and he admired that. God knew he could relate to it. Life was tough enough when you backed down, and he'd never been one to do that.

“Pretty girl,” his aunt mused, bringing her glass to her lips.

“Hmm.” Nate pushed the food around on his plate. “She runs the bakery all on her own, then?”

It was hard to fathom, knowing what he did of the food industry. He'd been asked to consult on a few restaurants, and a strong team was crucial for success and profitability. A one-woman shop was far from efficient. But then, employees were expensive, and they needed to be properly managed, too.

Across the table, his aunt nodded. “She opened it at the beginning of October. Dumped everything she had into the place, too.”

Nate raised his eyebrows. A dangerous move, and not one he'd have advised. She looked to be in her late twenties. “She must have scrimped and saved everything she'd ever made then,” he remarked.

“Oh no.” Maggie shook her head. “Inheritance.”

Nate felt his shoulders deflate a little. Of course. He picked up his fork and resumed eating. There was no point discussing Kara or her bakery again. He knew the type of girl she was. Opportunities were handed over, not earned. She didn't know how the other half lived.

Too bad. She was really pretty. But she clearly wasn't the one for him.

K
ara stared wearily across the town square to the Main Street Bed and Breakfast, a box of three dozen snowflake cookies clutched in her hands. She cursed under her breath and resumed her walk, saying a silent prayer as she crunched through the snow that she could get in and out without so much as a glimpse of Nate or his cocky grin.

If only Molly had been able to help out, but she'd ended up getting a last-minute appointment at a bridal shop half an hour away, and because Kara felt guilty enough for not being able to break away from the shop to go with her, she'd seen no choice but to tell her sister that of course it was fine, she'd deliver the cookies herself, that it was no big deal, obviously.

Except that it was. And with each step she took that brought her closer to the inn, her heart pounded just a little faster; she was already having internal arguments with Mrs. Griffin's nephew in her head, her defense detailed on a mental list she'd added to as she'd iced each individual cookie.

She hurried past the pond, where skaters were laughing on the ice, and crossed the street to the big white inn, her eyes darting. No sign of him yet, but the lobby would be the true test. Head bent, she jogged up the stairs, almost falling a few times, and, with one last breath for courage, pushed through the front door.

Inside, the air was warm and fragrant and a fire crackled in the hearth. Guests milled about, talking in low voices, but from the swift sweep of her gaze, Nate was not to be seen. Kara slipped into the dining room, which was mercifully empty, and set the box of cookies on the buffet table against the far wall. Mrs. Griffin was often busy with housekeeping or other guest duties when Kara stopped by. No need to linger. Especially not with that smug nephew possibly under the roof.

She hurried back into the lobby and out the front door, gulping the cold air as she giggled to herself. She'd done it. In and out, without an altercation. Now, to just repeat the scenario until Nate went back to Boston, his fancy job, his fancy apartment, and his fancy car… all the results of his fancy degree.

“Careful of the ice!” a voice called out as she ran down the front steps.

Kara felt her stomach drop as she came to a halt, gripping the iron railing. She looked over her shoulder to see Nate coming around the side of the inn, looking even more handsome than she remembered. And it was an image she'd tried to forget. He wore a forest-green sweater under an open charcoal-gray wool jacket, jeans, and boots that must have belonged to Mrs. Griffin's late husband. His hair was tousled, his hazel eyes impossible to read under the hood of his brow, his grin friendly.

Well. Okay, so that was unexpected. And she didn't quite know what to do with it. She could smile back, or she could just wave to acknowledge him and be on her way. But he was cute. And there wasn't anyone else around. It would be rude to just run off…

“Cookies made it all in one piece today?” he asked, grinning a little wider.

Kara narrowed her eyes but then decided to make light of their awkward first encounter. “Since I was able to walk over without being body-slammed, yes.” She grinned as she motioned to the pile of logs he carried, wondering why she didn't just turn on her heel and leave then and there, get back to the bakery. God knew she had work to do if she was going to be ready for the bazaar tonight. She told herself it had nothing to do with the fact that he was the sexiest guy to cross the Briar Creek border since… well, ever. She could look. But she couldn't touch. The guy was arrogant. A city boy who thought he was better than them all, more sophisticated, more knowledgeable. “Your aunt put you to work, I see.”

He softened a bit, but there was a new edge to his voice when he said, “I don't mind hard work.”

Kara held his sharp gaze, wondering why he had grown so defensive. “That makes two of us, then.”

“Everyone needs a hobby,” he said, shrugging.

Kara tipped her head. “Excuse me?”

“I just meant I admire your efforts,” Nate said simply. He wasn't smiling anymore, and she didn't like the way his eyes lazily roamed over her face.

“It's not an effort,” she corrected him. “It's a business. And one I need to get back to, if you'll excuse me. Please tell your aunt the cookies are on the console in the dining room.”

Honestly! This man may have an MBA and, according to his doting aunt, a Lexus and some fantastic apartment with sweeping skyline views, but one thing he certainly didn't have was any charm. Clearly, Mrs. Griffin's opinion of him was even more biased than she'd always thought. He was handsome; she'd give the innkeeper some credit there. But that's where it stopped.

“Be careful of the ice,” Nate cautioned again as she hoisted her tote higher on her shoulder.

She said nothing but kept walking down the brick path, eager to be on her way, anger heating the blood in her veins, making her forget the snow and the wind and the fact that it was winter at all. From the looks of it, the gossip mill had already gotten around to him, regaling him with all her previous failures: the stint at the stationery shop, the week or two at the pub, the whopping six months at the insurance office. He clearly looked down on her. Successful businessman and small-town shopgirl. He didn't need to be such an ass about it.

She lifted her chin, reminding herself he'd be gone soon and that her life in Briar Creek would continue as it always had and that when he came back to visit—if he ever came back to visit—he'd be surprised to see that her bakery doors were still open, her cookies still fresh, and her spirit far from crushed.

He wanted to call her bakery a hobby? She suddenly had an urge to turn Sugar and Spice into a national chain and open one on the corner of the street where he lived.

She smiled at the thought, and she was just getting to the part of imagining his expression when he saw her face on the cover of some national business magazine, when her boots hit something slippery, she felt her legs come out from under her, and the world went into slow motion as she dropped onto her butt, her eyes now level with the boxwood hedges that lined the inn's front path.

Under any other circumstance, she would have yelped. Loudly. But given the knowledge of Nate standing behind her, no doubt watching the entire thing, she'd managed to keep her lips pressed tightly even though pain shot through her tailbone, hot as fire.

“Told you to be careful,” he said, approaching, but there was a hint of concern in his voice.

Gritting her teeth against a comeback, Kara struggled to pick herself up, already feeling the sting of a bruise on her left hip. Her cheeks flared with heat and she was aware of a soggy mark on her butt and thighs. She brushed at her backside quickly, letting her hair fall over her face as she struggled against the slick pavement.

A hand appeared in front of her. She hesitated and then, cursing silently, set her hand in it. She'd forgotten her gloves at the bakery, and she was surprised by the warmth of his skin, despite the cold temperature. His palm was smooth, his grip firm, and she was so busy anticipating the awkward moment when she released his hand, and the gratitude she would have to project, that she didn't even notice the patch of ice near her left heel. No sooner was she halfway up than she was going down again. And this time, she was taking Nate with her.

She caught the surprise in his eye as he tipped to the side, struggled with his footing, and landed with a heavy thud beside her.

Horror washed over her body as she lay next to him outside the Main Street B&B, staring up at the gray sky. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear children squealing as they played in the snow on the town square, but otherwise, the street was quiet, the world still, punctured all at once by a rumble of laughter.

Nate's chest rose and fell as his amusement cut through the wind, and Kara joined in, too, though a little less enthusiastically.

“Good thing you didn't have any cookies on you this time, or I never would have heard the end of it.” Nate's grin seemed a little easier as he picked himself up and then, more carefully this time, helped Kara to her feet.

“Consider us even,” she said, still hot with embarrassment. She motioned to the birch logs that had spilled into the snow, no doubt now wet. “I hope there's more dry wood in the pile.”

Nate glanced at the logs and gave a good-natured shrug. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he met her gaze. “Gives me something to do. I'm not really used to keeping idle.”

“Well, there's lots to do in Briar Creek,” Kara said. “And I'm sure your aunt would be thrilled to have you spare her an insurance claim and salt the walkway. I know I'd be grateful…” She looked up at him, grinning slowly.

What was she doing? If she didn't know better, she'd say she was flirting with the man! But no, no, she was just giving him the benefit of the doubt. She couldn't punish him forever, after all. And he had helped her up. And she had pulled him down… And he was a visitor. She should show him a little hospitality, at least.

Nate barked out a laugh. “Good point. But that will take all of five minutes. What else do people do around here?”

“Oh…” Kara shrugged. She'd been locked in her kitchen for so many hours these days that she almost couldn't remember what she used to do for fun. “There's a gym. And a few restaurants on Main Street. Some shops. There's always a lot going on in town during the holidays.”

Nate's lip curled a bit. “So I've heard. My aunt is very passionate about this town.”

Now it was Kara's turn to laugh. “That she is. But we all are, I suppose.”

“You've lived here all your life then?” Nate asked as he bent down to pick up some logs.

Kara reached for one that had rolled near her foot, careful not to slip again. “Born and raised. I left for college, though.” She took satisfaction in saying that. Even if she hadn't figured out her life until recent months, she had earned a degree. She wondered if that surprised him.

“And now you run the bakery.”

“Now I
own
the bakery,” she said proudly.

“Hmm.” Nate took the last log from her and turned slightly back to the house. “Well, good luck with it.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” she asked sharply. Maybe she was being sensitive, but his attitude bothered her, and she didn't appreciate it.

“I just mean that most new businesses don't make it past the first year. You could love what you're doing or selling, but if you don't know how to properly manage your business or balance the budget, you could get yourself into trouble. A good product isn't enough.”

“And you know this because…”

“Because it's what I do for a living,” Nate said simply. “I go in, analyze practices and procedures, and put together an action plan to keep a business going.”

“People pay you for your opinions?” She supposed she should be happy to have gotten free advice, but she couldn't bring herself to feel grateful. She just felt ticked. This was her business, and if she needed help, she'd ask for it.

“Quite a bit, actually.” He tipped his head, his mouth slipping into a crooked grin.

“Well, I'm doing just fine,” she said briskly.

He had the nerve to look amused. “If you say so.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Was there something he knew that she didn't? Something beyond her glaring oversight not to offer any coffee or tea? “I do. I've put everything I have into that bakery, and I believe in it.”

“Everything you have, huh?” He let out a low whistle.

“Well, it wasn't that much to begin with!” Kara was blinking rapidly, feeling a sudden urgency to get back to her bakery, to bake, to make hot chocolate, to add to her plans for tonight's bazaar. Was there time to toss in a few dozen snowflake cookies, individually packaged? Her heart was racing. There would be. If she hurried. She could put them in the oven while she finished up the gingerbread houses, decorate them right before she left. Since she'd taken the apartment above the bakery with the lease, she wouldn't need to worry about finding time to freshen up. Not that she needed to primp for anyone.

All she needed was to make this business work. Not just for herself, but for her father… She'd spent every dime of her inheritance on this endeavor. It was the last gift he'd ever given her, and she'd wanted to make it grow, to turn it into something that could last, that would remind her of him. The thought of losing it would be like losing a bit of her dad all over again.

She blinked back the tears that suddenly stung her eyes.

Nate was just a jerk. He was under her skin. He knew how to rile her up. How to press every button.

“I should go,” she said, and this time she managed to get off the property without falling on her bottom.

Or falling too hard for Nate.

The Holiday Bazaar was held in a large meeting hall in the town's library, made almost unrecognizable by the decorations and lights and holiday music that streamed from speakers. Briar Creek's decorating committee had really outdone themselves this year by creating a village feel in the room, with winding paths allowing a flow of people to peruse the stalls, hot chocolate stands, and popcorn vendors, and beautifully decorated Christmas trees spread throughout.

Kara's booth was ideally located in the center of the room, with other edible gifts. She glanced around at the competition, even though most were hobbyists, as Nate would say, women who liked to bake at home and sell their goods at school bake sales and community events. Someone sold fudge, another pies, and another beautiful ribbon candy in glistening holiday colors. But no other cookies. Or gingerbread.

Kara eyed the room carefully, looking for her mother, who said she'd be here tonight. Sure enough, there, one aisle away, was Rosemary, talking animatedly with one of the dancer's moms, no doubt about the upcoming show.