Christmas at Evergreen Inn (Jewell Cove 4)

“Ladies first,” he said softly, withdrawing his hand.

She reached in and withdrew a quarter-sized cookie dipped in chocolate glaze and crushed candy cane bits. She held it out. “It’s a mint one. Do you want it?”

He smiled at her. “It’s yours.”

Lainey peered inside the bag. “It’s the last candy cane one. Are you sure?” She held it out again.

He took it from her fingers, took a bite, and held out the other half for her. “Fifty–fifty,” he said quietly, holding the morsel to her lips.

She swallowed nervously, opened her mouth, and let him feed it to her. Half a cookie. Hardly romantic, and yet the act was oddly intimate and … yes, arousing. There was a heat in his eyes he couldn’t quite disguise, made more potent by the fact that he didn’t press his case. He was patient. He was keeping his word. And it made her want him even more that she already had. She clenched her hands together in her lap to keep from reaching out for him. They were in public, for heaven’s sake. Whatever incendiary thing had happened the other night couldn’t happen again.

If she said it enough, maybe she’d believe it.

He reached out and brushed a crumb off her lips with his thumb. She thought she might spontaneously combust.

Instead she balled up the paper bag and got up, pasting on a smile. “So what’s next?”

“Whatever you’d like,” he replied, pulling his hat down over his ears a bit more. “It’s your day.”

What she was thinking wasn’t exactly PG-friendly, so she looked around, searching for a shop that might pique her interest. The Three Fishermen gallery was open right next to the edge of the wharf, with a beautiful tree on the front porch. The bookstore was across the street, the front bay window decorated with lights and a tree fashioned from stacked books. Up one street stood the big purple building that was Treasures, where crafters and tourists alike found unique local items and supplies for homey touches. She shopped there often, looking for things to use at the inn. It called to her the most, so she turned to Todd and said, “Let’s pop into Treasures.”

They turned their backs on the wind coming off the water, passed the tree in Memorial Square, and laughed at how someone had looped a huge wreath around the neck of the statue of Edward Jewell. Gulls circled overhead, their cries thin in the bitter air, but Lainey was oddly warm. A snowbank blocked access to the sidewalk, so Todd held out his hand to help her over. She could have done it easily on her own; the bank was only a couple of feet high. But she put her hand in his anyway, and felt his fingers squeeze hers through their heavy gloves. Once they were on the concrete sidewalk, he let go. The gloves were so thick that holding hands was awkward, but Lainey couldn’t erase the feeling of her hand in his.

Treasures was warm, welcoming, and smelled of cinnamon and pine. Instrumental Christmas carols played in the background and Lainey saw Jess Sullivan wrapping a parcel behind the counter, her smile wide and eyes twinkling. Her husband, Rick, was there, too, holding their little boy in his arms. The baby was too young to get into much trouble, but he was wearing adorable tiny jeans and a fleecy sweater with little r

ed and blue snowmen all over it. As she watched, Rick absently pressed a kiss to his son’s head.

She swallowed against a lump in her throat. There was something about men with babies. And babies were something she hadn’t let herself think about much over the last year.

“Wow. Look at all the stuff in here.”

She was diverted by Todd’s voice, and she forced herself to turn and look up at him. “Sorry?”

“Are you okay? You got a strange look on your face all of a sudden.”

“I’m fine. Let’s browse.”

They split up, and Lainey was glad. Her heart was hurting a little right now. All it had taken was one look at a baby and her ruined dreams came rushing back. She and Jason had had plans, dammit. They’d be married a couple of years and then start a family, when they could afford for Lainey to hire an on-site manager for the inn. Everything had been discussed, planned, dreamed about.

He’d ruined more than Christmas for her, and she was tired of it.

A display shelf held handmade Christmas ornaments, glass balls delicately painted with holiday scenes and symbols. Poinsettias, like the one Todd had brought her this morning, holly and berries, ribbons and bells and packages all painstakingly crafted on the smooth surface. The shelf had a small string of LED lights along the back, so that the paint colors popped. Her favorites, though, were the town scenes. She knew Rick painted all these by hand and she marveled at his talent at re-creating the wildness of the ocean next to the lighthouse at Refuge Point, snow falling over the Jewell Cove marina and, to her surprise, the Evergreen Inn. It was stunning, the depiction of the inn absolutely perfect, down to the brick-red color of the siding and the wreath on the door.

She put her hand on it, prepared to buy it, when she realized she didn’t have a tree to put it on. Oh, there was the one in the inn, but no one would see that now that she was closed until after Christmas morning.

“Rick has a lot of talent,” Todd said from behind her shoulder. “Did you know he did ornaments featuring the inn?”

“No,” she replied, shivering at the nearness of him. She could feel the warmth of his breath fluttering on the fine hairs along the back of her neck, just below the ribbing of her hat. “It’s beautiful.”

“You should buy it.”

“I was just thinking the same thing.” She smiled as she looked up into his eyes, and felt herself tumbling, just a little. There was understanding behind the dark depths, as if he recognized she was making an effort. When his lips curved up a little, she suddenly didn’t feel like skipping out on Christmas anymore. The problem hadn’t been the holiday, she realized. It had been being alone. Last year she’d been hurt and it had been terrible and inconvenient and humiliating, but what she remembered most was being alone.

But Todd was here now. They didn’t have to take things fast, but he’d forced her out of her self-imposed Grinchy Mount Crumpet. Why should she turn her back on the whole season? Why should she let something bad have that much power over her life?

Standing in the middle of the cozy store was an odd place to have such an epiphany. It was as if a weight had suddenly been lifted off her shoulders. Maybe the problem hadn’t been Jason. Maybe it was that she’d tried to get through the memories by boycotting the holiday. Now she realized the best way might be to actually immerse herself in it.

“I’ll buy it on one condition.”