Read Sweet Christmas Kisses Online

Authors: Donna Fasano,Ginny Baird,Helen Scott Taylor,Beate Boeker,Melinda Curtis,Denise Devine,Raine English,Aileen Fish,Patricia Forsythe,Grace Greene,Mona Risk,Roxanne Rustand,Magdalena Scott,Kristin Wallace

Sweet Christmas Kisses (16 page)

BOOK: Sweet Christmas Kisses
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She rapped lightly at Will’s door, deciding to check on him before dinner. Ashley had been happily engaged in a game of checkers with Velma by the fire, but her boy had been holed up in his room all afternoon. Despite all the fun family times they’d shared, he’d spent an inordinate amount of time in there. Then again, perhaps that was par for the course, given that he was a teenager.

Will told her to come in, and she entered to find him leaning against the fox headboard, cell phone in hand. He appeared to be texting once again.

“You’re on that thing all day long.”

“Everybody my age does it, Mom.” He cocked his head sideways. “It’s not like it’s something dirty.”

His phone buzzed again, and he checked it.

“That’s what I mean,” she went on. “It’s constant.”

“I was out of touch all morning,” he said. “There’s catching up to do.”

“With whom?”

He shrugged and tucked away the phone, which buzzed anyway. “Why do you care who I talk to?”

“Because I’m your mother,” she said firmly. “And I care about you.” She sat beside him, then added more softly. “That’s what a good parent does, Will.”

He looked pensive a moment, gloomy. “You mean, like Dad?” he asked, meeting her eyes.

Carol’s heart sank. “Oh, Will. I’m so sorry about your dad. Really I am. You don’t know how much I wish—”

“It’s not your fault.” He hung his head. “I know he always missed your birthday too.”

Tears caught in throat, but she willed her way past them to speak. “How do you know that?”

He looked up, pain streaking his eyes. “Ashley’s not old enough to remember, but I am.”

“It’s all right,” she said resolutely. “
I’m
an adult, I can take it, but you—”

He stopped her by touching her arm. “No, Mom. It’s not all right. Can’t you see? The way that Dad treated all of us wasn’t right at all. It doesn’t have to be that way. Not all guys are like that.”

Carol studied him, holding in her tears. Who was this young man on the scene, and who had taken away her little boy? “You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

“I’m growing up. I see things.”

“Oh? What do you see?”

He studied her for a beat. “I think Mr. Love likes you.”

She inhaled in shock. “Me? What makes you say that?”

“Come on, Mom.” His lips creased in a subtle smile. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“How’s that?”

 “I guess it’s a lot like the way I look at Amanda.”


Amanda?

Will’s cell buzzed in his pocket, and Carol finally made the connection. No wonder Will was sneaking peeks at his phone all the time. The boy had a girlfriend!

“She’s nice, Mom. Really. Don’t freak too much about it, okay? We’re just friends.”

“Sure, right. That’s what I thought,” she said. But then she couldn’t stop herself. “I don’t suppose you have a picture?”

Downstairs in the foyer, Daniel approached Paul, who was doing paperwork at the front desk. On the front porch beyond them, wild winds raked the front of the house. It was Christmas Eve, and they were in for yet another storm. “Yes, son?” Paul said, setting his stack of bill receipts aside.

“Weather’s picking up out there,” Daniel said, peering through the front-door window.

“That it is,” Paul said, studying his son, who seemed to be acting slightly suspicious, though Paul couldn’t fathom why.

“So bad, in fact, that the roads might be bad driving later.”

“Which is why it’s good everyone we know has four-wheel drive.”

“Yeah, but Amy’s car is older. Not so great on the ice.”

“Amy?” Paul narrowed his eyes, wondering where this topic was going. “Just what are you getting at, Daniel?”

“Just that, with the weather being dicey and all…” The boy cleared his throat, then squared his shoulders a bit. “I was thinking it might be best if Amy slept over.”

Paul raised a hand and mimicked cleaning out his ear. “I’m sure I didn’t hear you right.”

“It will be after ten by the time we clean up dinner.”

Daniel rarely pressed him, so maybe he wasn’t prepared for the pushback. “Well then, maybe this year we can handle it without her.”

Daniel sighed, his face sagging. “I wasn’t even suggesting she stay in my room.”

“Let’s hope not.”

“Please, Dad. I want to spend some time on Christmas Eve with my best girl. If she has to drive home after we clean up dinner, we’ll get almost no time together at all. Besides, it really will be dangerous.” He pressed his palms together with a pleading look. “Her mom already said yes.”

“Her what?” Paul sputtered. He sure didn’t like the sound of this, Amy staying over upstairs. Then again, they did have an extra room, and Paul would never forgive himself if something happened to her on her way home. The truth was, Amy had become as much a part of things in their Christmas Eve tradition as their revolving door of colorful guests was. She’d become a fixture here, with her bright and cheery face and happy disposition. She was a nice girl, bright too. Paul could have picked many a worse girlfriend for his son, and he’d frankly come to care for her as well. In some ways, during these rough few years, she’d been the closest thing he’d had to a daughter.

“I’ll need to talk to her mom, then. Be sure this is the right thing to do.”

Daniel reached across the desk, gripping his father’s shoulders. “Thanks, Dad!” he said with a big, bold grin. “You’re the best!”

 

A little while later, Zach entered the kitchen with a stealthy look. “Can I talk to you a minute?” he asked Paul, who was cubing lamb by the stove.

“Sure,” Paul replied. “Come on in.”

Zach awkwardly took a seat on a barstool.

“Would you like some coffee?” Paul asked. “A beer, maybe?”

“Naw, man,” Zach said, lowering his voice. “I need your help.”

“Help?” Paul set down his knife and met the other man’s gaze.

“With your mom.”

“Velma?” Paul asked with concern. “Is something wrong?”

“Not wrong,” Zach said in a whisper. “Extra right.” He stunned Paul by pulling a ring box from his pocket. “I want to make it official, man. Me and the Mama Bear, we…” He looked dreamy for a moment before turning his eyes back on Paul’s. “What I mean to say is, listen, dude, I think we’re meant for each other. I really dig that woman, and she digs me.”

Paul gulped, then asked tentatively. “Does she know about this yet?” As far as he knew, Velma wasn’t the marrying kind. She’d shot down the last three suitors she’d had, but Paul decided against mentioning that to Zach. He seemed such a lovesick puppy dog. Besotted, even. Paul had never seen anything like it.

“I want to surprise her,” Zach went on. “At dinner. More like, dessert time. If that’s all right by you. I mean, I thought I should ask you first on two counts.”

Paul stared at him, agape. What if his mom said yes? That would be great! Crazy, but great! As long as Zach was really the one. “First,” Zach continued, “because you’re the son, and I know it sounds a little retro and all, but hey, she loves you a lot, so I thought it would be good if I got your blessing.”

Paul tried to process the role reversal as quickly as he could, but somehow the wheels kept sticking, coming back around the same proclamation/question.
Velma’s getting married?

“And the second count?” Paul queried.

“Ah yeah. It’s because you’re the head honcho here, and I wanted to ensure it wasn’t a problem having a big event like this one happen at dinner.”

Paul loved his mother, but she could honestly be somewhat of a handful. Of course, he suspected Zach must already know that. Heck, maybe that was part of her appeal. “How long have you known?” Paul asked.

Zach sighed looking distant a moment. “I guess it was that time I took your mom hiking in the North Woods. It was late summertime, really pleasant and lovely. Super quiet too. You know what I’m saying?”

With Velma along, that was hard to imagine, but Paul got the gist, so he just nodded.

“We were walking along like kids, and Velma had these wild flowers in her hair. And I thought to myself, I did,
Zach, old buddy, that’s who you need to be walking through the woods with. Someone who looks like she just got here from San Francisco.
And then I imagined those woods, all icy and cold like they are now in winter, and thought,
who’s going to be there with me, holding my hand and warming my back up then?

“Warming your back…?”

“It’s the way that we sleep when—”

Paul held up his hand, getting it. “Too much information.”

“Sorry.” He shot Paul a sheepish grin. “I really do love the lady, though. And since you’re her only kid…”

“Of course I’ll help.” Paul warmly gripped Zach’s hand. “And best of luck.”

 

Carol tentatively entered the kitchen to find Paul furiously chopping at the center island. As if there wasn’t enough to worry about in having things go smoothly around here on Christmas Eve, now he had to hope his mom’s engagement would go swimmingly—and that Daniel would stay out of Amy’s room. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the kids. They were great kids, world’s best. That didn’t negate the fact that they were head-over-heels-in-love teenagers. Paul wasn’t so old he’d forgotten what that was like. It was particularly hard to forget with his old flame, Beth, staying at the inn.

“Is this a good time?”

“It’s a great time,” he said, pausing in his work. “Come on in.” Carol’s unexpected appearance actually came as a relief. When she was around, the world seemed bright and sunny, and any troubles he had not so pressing indeed.

“I was just looking for a cup of coffee.”

“Help yourself. Pot’s over there.” He scooped vegetables into a large cauldron. “I was just getting a start on dinner.”

She walked to the pot and poured herself a cup.

“Cream with that?”

She shook her head. “Smells delicious.”

Paul lowered his voice in a mysterious tone. “My family’s secret lamb stew. It’s a holiday tradition.”

“Then I’m glad to be a part of it,” she said with a warm smile.

Winds howled outdoors, slamming the storm shutters. Paul thought of the great North Woods in the thick of this cold.

“Where did you learn to cook?” she asked, leaning against a counter.

“Oh, I picked it up here and there.”

He indicated a tray of maple-leaf cookies. “Have one with your coffee. It’s a Maine staple.”

She gave a grateful laugh, scooping one off the tray. “I could definitely use the sugar.”

He studied her a moment, suspecting something was off. “Are you okay, Carol?”

She stared at him, and he stared back, trapped in the heat of her gaze. All at once, he felt as hot as the most blazing wildfire.

“Yes, fine,” she said with a flush, though she didn’t look it.

Paul dropped his gaze to his work and kept on chopping—onion, garlic, potatoes— in a very practiced rhythm. “That’s good, because, to tell you the truth, you don’t look so hot.”

She gasped, apparently affronted. “I beg your…?”

He looked up with a start. “No, I meant… That’s not what I meant at all! You are perfectly hot. Very nice to look at, in fact.”

She bloomed bright red like a Christmas poinsettia.

“That came out badly,” he said, still furiously chopping.

She widened her eyes in terror. “Watch it!”

Paul looked down to see he’d nearly added his index finger to the stew.

“Wow,” he said, setting down the knife in a sweat. Why was he so darn nervous? Was it the fact that his mom was getting hitched? Possibly hitched? She might even say no, he reminded himself.

He met Carol’s concerned gaze and understood immediately that his being on edge had much less to do with his mom and a lot more to do with the woman in front of him. Her deep dark eyes were centered on his, her lovely face lined with concern.

“Where was I?” he asked, feeling as if he’d completely lost his place in the world.

“Asking me if I was all right.” Her gaze traveled to the knife on the chopping block, then back up to his again. “But maybe the question should be reversed?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He leaned into the counter, releasing a breath.

“I’m not totally myself this afternoon. I’ve just had a bit of a surprise, that’s all.” In truth, it was more than
a bit
. Not only had the news from Zach come as a shock, Paul had just admitted to himself he was attracted, seriously attracted, to one certain single mom from Virginia. He’d been fighting it ever since she got here and totally trashed his new dog sled. He hadn’t put it out in the garbage at all and had said so only to make her feel better. And making Carol Baker feel better was definitely a good thing. While her skiing trip had proved initially harrowing, once she’d lived through it, she’d seemed to perk right up. Totally upbeat and sunny, running all over town exploring things with her cute kids. And when she turned her chocolate-colored eyes on him and smiled, it was all Paul could do to recall theirs was supposed to be a client-innkeeper relationship.

“What’s the matter?” she asked sincerely.

“It wouldn’t be professional sharing my personal problems with you.”

“Then why don’t you think of me as someone else?”

“Like who?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a concerned neighbor? Someone who dropped by for a cup of sugar.”

I could show you some sugar, all right
, Paul thought, before mentally slapping himself with a jolt. What was he thinking? That he’d make a move on her, right here and now? It was only four in the afternoon, but you’d think he’d dipped into the eggnog already. Heavy on the bourbon.
And here I am worrying about Daniel! Could it be because that apple didn’t fall far from this tree?

The back of Paul’s neck flashed hot. “You first.”

“Me?” she asked with surprise.

“Fair’s fair, Carol. You tell me what’s troubling you, then maybe…just maybe I’ll dish about what’s eating me.”

She narrowed her eyes, then shook her head. “All right, but you promise not to think I’m silly?”

“Nothing you could tell me would be silly.”

“I…” she began, her voice cracking. She pulled a tissue from a box on the counter and dabbed the corner of one eye. “I had a talk with Will…”

BOOK: Sweet Christmas Kisses
4.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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