He settled a dark leather duffel bag at his feet as he took the red burgundy seat. “You were studying that paper so intently I didn’t know if I should bother you or not.”
“I love a good diversion,” she answered. “And you’re the best kind. You make me smile.”
“That is the nicest thing I’ve heard all day.” He beamed at her. “I have another joke for you. Or is it too early?”
“I could use a good laugh. Tell me the joke.”
He leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “What do you call an elf that sings?”
She took in his bright blue eyes and the delighted curve of his lips. Some of the tension inside her eased. “I don’t know. What do you call an elf that sings?”
“A wrapper! A rapper. Get it?”
“Got it.” She groaned and laughed at the same time. “That was terrible. But good.”
“Terribly funny?”
“You’re lucky I like you.”
He chuckled. “I have lots of jokes. Kids are sending them to me all the time.”
The waitress stopped by to top off Whitney’s coffee and fill Kris’ cup and take his order. He wanted one egg fried and toast. The waitress moved on.
Kris doctored his coffee by adding a splash of milk and three packets of sugar.
“That’s a lot of sugar,” she said, amused.
“I have a sweet tooth,” he confessed before patting his round belly. “That’s how I got this.”
“But the belly suits you. The whole thing…it’s impressive.”
“Just trying to be myself.” He took a sip from his coffee before putting the cup down. “It’s none of my business but you seem a little down today, Whitney. And you can tell me it’s none of my business. I won’t get my feelings hurt but if you feel like talking—”
“I’m fine.” She put her hand on his red sleeve, patting it. He was the kindest person she’d met in years and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings but there was no way she could talk about Cormac with him. No way she could discuss Cormac with anyone. The only person who might have understood her feelings was April, and April was gone. “Everything is good.”
She gestured at the duffel bag at his feet. “You’re leaving Marietta?”
“Just for a few days. I’ll be back late on Friday. How about you? Are you here for Thanksgiving?”
“Yes. I’m here until New Year’s. And Thanksgiving…oh dear, haven’t even thought that far ahead yet, but I imagine I’ll be right here in this exact spot. Do you think the diner will be open for a turkey dinner?”
He chuckled. “It might be. But wouldn’t you rather be with your family? Where is your family?”
“I was born and raised in Bozeman, but my parents have become snowbirds. They’ve already headed to Arizona for the winter.”
“So why not go there?”
“I did last year but flights are expensive and since I’ve only just arrived I might as well stay put. What about you? What brought you to town?
“A job.”
“Did you get it?”
“Yes, I did.” His eyes shone with good humor. “The Graff Hotel has hired me to be their Santa Claus this year.”
She couldn’t hide her smile. “That’s fantastic. You’ll be a great Santa Claus.”
“I do my best,” he said with a wink, before glancing down at the paper on the counter. “So what are you looking for? Love? A puppy? A car?”
“A place to stay. My company has reserved a room at the Graff for me while I’m in Marietta, but I don’t want to spend another six or seven weeks at a hotel. I’m looking for a furnished apartment or a room to let, but there’s not a lot available.”
“Have you checked with the Bramble House? It’s a big red brick B&B over on Bramble Lane, just a short walk from here. I’m staying there when I return. Very nice people running the place. Mable Bramble and her niece and husband. You’d find it quite homey.”
Whitney reached into her purse for a pen and jotted the name Bramble House down on her newspaper. “The Bramble House on Bramble?”
“That’s it.”
“Thanks. I’ll definitely check it out.” She tucked the paper into her purse but stayed with Kris until he finished his breakfast.
“Just enough time,” he said reaching for his wallet and peeling off a number of one dollar bills. “I want to stop by Copper Mountain Chocolates and pick up something for the wife. Wouldn’t do to go home empty handed.”
“Do you need a ride to the airport?”
“I have a cab picking me up.”
“I can take you,” she offered, opening up her own wallet and pulling out cash and placing it on the check on the counter.
“No need. The Graff is covering the cab, and I’m sure you have more important things to do. Like finding a room someplace. Don’t forget about the Bramble House.”
“I won’t. I’m going to check them out today, but it’s early still. How about I walk with you to Copper Mountain Chocolates? I haven’t been inside yet and I’ve been meaning to stop in.”
“Can’t go wrong with that plan. Best chocolates in Montana. I think I’ve tried almost everything now. Sage—she owns the place—is always letting me sample new things she’s working on. Not sure if she’ll be in today but she promised to make up a special box for me to take back to Mrs. Krinkles.”
Whitney’s lips twitched at the mention of Mrs. Krinkles. “Is that really your name, Kris? Krinkles?”
“It is. You don’t like it?”
“No, I love it.” And she did. It was perfect. Maybe a little too perfect, which also made it cliché, but was that such a bad thing? What would life be like without imagination and magic and a bit of fairy dust? The last few years had been sadly lacking in magic and fairy dust.
Now yesterday at the movies and then the dinner at Rocco’s…that had been fun. It’d had a little magic and fairy dust sprinkled all over it. Even the kiss at Cormac’s door had been magical—
She ground her teeth tight and stopped herself there.
She couldn’t stop thinking about last night. Couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss…and how good it’d felt to kiss Cormac. And the very fact that she kept thinking about Cormac and his kiss made her realize she needed to do something about Jason.
As nice as he was, as attractive and smart as he was, Jason wasn’t right. He wasn’t the one for her. Not that Cormac wasn’t the one for her, either, but leading Jason on wasn’t the answer.
“There, you’re looking sad again,” Kris said. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? Get some old Kris Krinkles advice?”
She smiled even as her eyes watered and she impatiently dashed the tears away. “I don’t know why I’m crying. There is nothing wrong. It’s just life. Stuff.”
“Life isn’t all fun and games.”
“Oh, I know that.” She double-checked the bill and made sure she’d left a generous tip before putting her wallet back in her purse. “The last few years have been a little rough. I’m ready for something good to happen.”
“That’s why it’s so important to keep believing.”
“I do.”
“Do you?” He looked at her closely. “Because miracles need hope, love and faith.”
“I don’t need a miracle,” she said huskily, slipping off the stool and putting her coat on. “I just need to get back to Denver.”
They walked to the door. Kris held it open for her. “Is everything so much better in Denver?” he asked.
Whitney had to think about that one as they stepped outside into the chilly morning. “No. But it’s not Marietta. It’s not…here.”
“That attitude isn’t helping you,” he said, wagging his finger at her with mock sternness. “You’ve got to be positive. You’re one of the good ones. You don’t want to end up on the Naughty List!”
*
Cormac was walking Daisy to Copper Mountain Chocolates for their famous hot cocoa when he spotted Whitney and the old bearded guy from the flight exiting the chocolate
shop.
Whitney gave the old man a hug and then lifted a hand, waving goodbye, as the Santa-want-to-be shouldered the duffel, making it look almost like a sack of toys.
The old guy had the part down, and while Cormac gave him points for authenticity, he wasn’t a fan of a man playing on children’s imagination. He just hoped Daisy hadn’t seen him. But no such luck. She tugged on his hand. “Was that Santa?” she asked, tugging again. “With our Whitney?”
He inhaled, lips compressing. Our Whitney. Out of the mouth of babes. “Do you like Whitney?”
“Yes. Don’t you?”
“I think she’s wonderful.”
“Me, too.”