Sweet Christmas Kisses (165 page)

Michael grinned, but wondered if anyone had pointed out that the baby had obviously come well before the actual wedding.

Shaking his head, he opened the door. He’d barely had a chance to admire the sophistication of the room when a voice called out from the back.

“Be right there!”

A moment later Julia appeared in the hallway. She walked out, a welcoming smile on her face. Then she frowned. “Michael?”

“Good to see you, too.”

“Sorry. I was surprised. I never expected to see you in here.” She sent him a teasing grin. “Unless you’re getting married?”

He waited for an avalanche of anxiety, the clammy hands, racing heart, and near-hyperventilation at the thought. For the past year-and-a-half, panic had been his usual reaction whenever anyone suggested he might marry again.

“No…” he said, surprised to feel hope rather than revulsion. “Right now, I need your help locating Emily Sinclair. Noelle needs a Mrs. Claus for storytime
,
and it starts in a couple hours.”

“Finding Emily could be difficult,” Julia said. “I haven’t heard from her in a few days, which probably means she’s writing. And when she goes into E.J.-Sinclair-mode, she tends to go underground.”

Not the easy answer Michael wanted. He stepped forward. “If there is no Mrs. Claus, Noelle will have to do it, and I need her to be free tonight.”

There. Enough to intrigue Julia, but not so much she would jump to any conclusions. Except he was dealing with 
Julia
, and she had uncanny powers of observation.

She searched his face and then gave a little whoop of laughter. “I knew it!”

“What?” he said, wondering what he’d given away.

“You’re not as blind and stubborn as I thought,” she said, patting him on the back. “Now let’s find your Mrs. Claus so you can get your girl.”

“Julia…” he said, his tone warning.

Her palm moved to his cheek and she tapped twice. “I know, I know. Still plenty of baggage to get over.”

Julia went to work then. She called Emily’s phone and got the same straight-to-voicemail treatment. Similar calls to the library, Jesse’s Treats, the bookstore, and a half-dozen other places E.J. took to haunting when she was writing were unsuccessful.

“She couldn’t have vanished,” Michael said after the seventh failed attempt.

Julia held up a finger. “We’re not giving up. I have another idea.”

Her next call was to Emily’s fiancé, Nate Cooper. Which of course went straight to voicemail.

Julia bit back a curse. “He must be on a job and can’t hear his phone. I’m sure he must know where Emily is.”

Michael was ready to tear out his hair. “If I knew where he was working I’d go out there. Anything is more productive than this.”

The bell over the shop door pealed. Julia’s assistant, Betsy, bounded in as if she had springs in her shoes. “Hi! Avery Williams is all set to have her wedding at the gazebo at Lake Rice. It is going to be so
gorgeous!
” She stopped when she spied Michael. “Hello.”

“Hi, Betsy,” he said. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched her bounce. The woman must eat nothing but bowls of sugar all day.

“I have been so
impressed
with the Christmas Village!” Betsy said. “You and Noelle Robinson are doing such a
fantastic
job!”

“Betsy,” Julia said, reigning in the whirling dervish of cheer. “I’ll give you two hundred dollars if you can tell me where Nate Cooper is right now.”

Betsy blinked, which seemed to focus her attention. “Oh sure. He’s painting a house at 527 Magnolia Street.”

Julia chuckled. “That’s why you’re going to be running this show some day.”

Michael gazed at Betsy in astonishment. “How do you know that?”

“It’s her superpower,” Julia said, with a chuckle. “I don’t question it. I just thank God she’s on my team. Betsy, assuming you’re not actually psychic, how
do
you know where Nate is?”

“Because I live at 521 Magnolia Street,” Betsy said.

****

Michael found Nate Cooper right where he was supposed to be… dangling off a ladder, painting the trim of a two-story, Queen-Anne-style house. A position that reminded Michael he hadn’t gone rock climbing in way too long.

Nate eased down the ladder with the reflexes of a cat. “If it isn’t Mr. Christmas. What are you doing here? You need more volunteers tonight?”

“I’m looking for Emily.”

“She’s writing today,” he said, cleaning his hands with a rag soaked in turpentine. “Doesn’t like to be disturbed when she’s in the zone.”

“This is an emergency. We need a replacement Mrs. Claus for story time, and I thought E.J. Sinclair would be perfect.”

“Oh.” Nate smiled. “She’d enjoy that.”

“Plus, you’d be helping me out with another mission. Something a little more personal.”

“You’d score points with Noelle Robinson for one,” Nate said with a sly grin, making Michael aware that, though the guy might be quiet, he was by no means ignorant. “Not a bad thing for a guy to do.”

Startled laughter rumbled up his chest. “So does that mean I can have E.J.’s secret location?”

“Emily would kill me if she doesn’t get the chance to do her part for romance,” Nate said by way of an answer. “There is one slight problem though.”

“What’s that?”

“She’s writing at Aurora Johnston’s house.”

****

Michael gazed at the expansive driveway with trepidation. Noelle better appreciate the lengths he’d go to ensure a date.

Aurora Johnston.

Some said the woman hadn’t left her palatial home in over fifty years. Stories of the eccentric widow had circulated back to when Michael was a kid. Even his father had joked about older siblings using Aurora Johnston’s name to instill fear in younger brothers and sisters. Some theories contended Aurora was the inspiration for the old woman who liked to fatten up little children and eat them.

Rationally, Michael knew the rumor wasn’t true. He was a grown man and didn’t believe in fairytales anymore. Still, he wouldn’t be going anywhere near the kitchen.

A gray-haired woman, who might have been young around the turn of the last century, opened the door.

“Well, I do declare. Visitors!” she exclaimed, as if anyone knocking on the door was a novelty. Considering Aurora’s reputation, it probably had been a long time since anyone had dared to breach the lion’s den.

“Hi, I’m looking for Emily,” Michael said, pasting on what he hoped was a charming smile.

Her eyes widened, and, for a moment, panic flickered across her features. “Emily, you say?” She called out in a voice loud enough to call forth the dead. “Emily isn’t here! No sir, we haven’t any authors here! It’s just me and Aurora all by ourselves.”

Clearly she’d been given orders not to let anyone disturb E.J. Sinclair. Michael restrained the urge to bodily remove the woman from the doorway. It wasn’t her fault he was running out of time.

Michael heard shuffling and the
click-clack
of a cane against wood floors. Then a tall, rail-thin woman with sunken cheeks and a tight bun of snow-white hair atop her head appeared. He’d never seen Aurora Johnston in person, but she looked exactly like someone who would boil children in a cauldron and put them on the lunch menu.

Dark, penetrating eyes stared back at him. “Who are you?”

Michael stood his ground despite the urge to turn and flee. No reason to be scared. He could handle one crotchety old lady.

“Michael Campbell,” he said, straightening his shoulders. “I’m looking for Emily Sinclair. I need her for an urgent project.”

Aurora continued giving him the stink eye, and Michael resisted the impulse to look down and make sure he hadn’t been magically transformed into a toad or something.

“Emily doesn’t like to be disturbed when she’s writing,” Aurora said. “It’s why she comes here. Folks in this town know better than to invade my home.”

True, and he had to admire Emily’s intelligence. Most people would never willingly knock on Aurora’s door.

Unless they were on a mission, and Michael would not be deterred from his. No matter what.

“We need someone to play Mrs. Claus and read to children,” he said. “I’m sure Emily would love to impart her love of stories to the next generation.”

“Oh, she would love that,” the other woman said.

“Hortense,” Aurora said on a sharp note.

Michael sensed a weakness and moved in for the kill. “Plus, she could play Fairy Godmother and help Cinderella get to the ball.”

His parents’ Christmas party in no way resembled a ball, but the analogy could help nudge a romantic soul.

Hortense sighed, but Aurora remained unmoved. “I have no idea what you’re talking about young man,” she said. “I will tell Emily you were here when she comes down, though.”

Michael knew the door was about to shut in his face, so he went with pleading. “Look, I need to take Noelle Robinson to my parents’ party, and that means she needs to be free tonight, and that means I need a Mrs. Claus.”

“Noelle Robinson?” Aurora’s expression sharpened. “Now I know who you are. You’re the brother of the scallywag who took off right before his wedding.”

“Oh, I remember that,” Hortense said, accusation in her narrowed eyes. “Poor girl.”

“Are you trying to court your brother’s girl now?” Aurora asked, ignoring the other woman.

“Yes,” Michael said.

“Well that ought to set some tongues wagging.”

“It might, but I don’t care what anyone else thinks,” Michael said, his conviction growing by the minute. He’d already wasted so much time running scared.

“How romantic,” Hortense said on a soft sigh. “Aurora, we can’t stand in the way of true love.”

“More to the point, this is just the type of thing Emily lives for,” Aurora said in a dry tone.

Aurora turned, and Michael heard the
click-clack
of the cane in retreat. Then a bell pealed loud enough to call in all the farmhands within a fifty-mile radius for supper. A few moments later, Emily appeared on the grand staircase.

“This had better be good, Aurora Johnston,” she yelled. “I was right in the middle of a scene. If you called me down here to garden or cut tree limbs…”

“You have a friend here, and he’s in need of someone to help win the woman he loves,” Aurora said, proving she had understood everything.

Emily swiveled her head and spotted Michael. Confusion was immediately replaced by a wide grin.

“Oh… I knew it I knew it I knew it!”

“Knew what?” Michael asked.

“Why you’ve been playing knight errant for Noelle, of course. Have you two finally decided to stop fighting it?”

“I have,” he said. “She may need some more convincing, and that’s where you come in. We need a Mrs. Claus for story time so Noelle can have the night off.”

“He’s taking her to his parents’ Christmas party,” Aurora supplied.

Emily clapped her hands together. “You are so a Mr. Darcy. Brooding, sexy, and hiding a world of pain, but still going to the ends of the earth to help his lady.”

“Brooding?” Michael echoed in bemusement. “And I’m not sure a Christmas party really qualifies as the ends of the earth.”

“Total brooder,” Emily said. “It goes perfectly with your dark hair and haunted eyes. Taking Noelle to a family event is nothing short of a declaration. It’s a grand gesture. Skywriting her name, a room full of roses, a radio dedication. It’s epic!”

Aurora snorted… delicately, but a snort nonetheless. “Emily, while you’re waxing poetic we’re losing time. This man is on a deadline.”

Emily’s eyes widened, and then she shook her head. “Sorry, I get carried away sometimes.” She smiled at Michael. “I’ll head over to St. Nick’s Closet right now. You go get Emily.”

“Thank you.”

“Just remember to name your firstborn after me,” she said with a cheeky grin.

Aurora folded her arms across her chest. “What if they have a boy?”

“Emmitt will do fine,” she said without missing a beat. “Come on, let’s go!”

With the role of Mrs. Claus in hand, Michael headed home to shower and change. The entire time he told himself everything would be all right. His parents would eventually understand. Noelle’s family would stop treating him like a pariah. The rest of Covington Falls would be shocked, but they’d have to get over it.

Of course, the biggest roadblock happened to be Noelle. If he couldn’t convince her to trust him, they were doomed. Somehow, he had to eliminate the specter of his brother’s betrayal.

A tall order. One requiring nothing less than a Christmas miracle.

Hey, God, it would be great if You could make that miracle happen.
He sent up the silent prayer as he hurried outside to his car.

A few minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of Noelle’s house. The headlights illuminated the figure huddled on the porch swing outside. He killed the engine, and, for a moment, they stared at each other through the windshield.

Tonight would change things forever. The moment he stepped out of the car their comfortable friendship would be over. In his mind, the possible reward was worth the risk. Noelle was worth the risk.

“Aren’t you freezing?” he asked as he got out.

“Better than the frostbite I’d get
inside
.”

A reluctant chuckle rumbled up his chest. “You told your parents?”

“I had to. It’s not like they could miss my outfit or the fact that I’m going out with someone.”

“What kind of outfit?” he asked. All he could make out was a black coat over black slacks.

A naughty, teasing grin curved her lips as she stood. Dropped the coat and rocked his world.

A red sweater.

A red, cashmere sweater that hugged her curves and made him want to explore every one.

“You look beautiful.”

The gathering darkness couldn’t hide the color staining her cheeks. “I debated about the red. It sends a message.”

“I got the message, loud and clear.” His libido did anyway.

She giggled. “I meant a message to everyone else. No more hiding.”

“No more hiding.”

“We should go,” she said, uncertainty clouding her eyes.

“Wait.” He strode up to the porch until he was inches away. Until he could breathe in her scent. “Do you think they’re watching?” he asked, gesturing to the window behind them.