The Rock Star's Christmas Reunion: contemporary holiday romance (A Charisma series novel, The Connollys Book 1) (3 page)

“Thank you,” she called, flashing him a quick grin.

“Need some help unloading?” he asked. Her smile lit up her face, less tentative than during their first meeting. At times, she’d shifted uneasily on the sofa, and he’d had the notion that she was judging him as Bax Connolly, rock star, rather than remembering him as her next door neighbor during high school. Hopefully she’d gotten over whatever nerves she’d been having and how he’d been an arrogant ass at the front door.

She walked around the back and pulled open the doors of the van. “Want to carry in the deep fryer? I wasn’t sure if you had one.”

Good
. Those simple words relaxed him. People never asked rock stars to do anything but perform. “I actually checked since I asked you for fried food and I have a small one.”

“Cool. We can do fish and fries at the same time.”

“Great. I was afraid you’d want to bake everything, with that healthy cooking you do.”

She smirked. “You obviously weren’t amused by the vegan thing.”

“I dated a vegan who loved her dog more than me. Bad memories of the lifestyle, so the word leaves me cold.”

“Lots of people feel very attached to animals. It’s not just a vegan thing.” She pointed toward the window. “You have a dog house outside.”

“I get loving them equally. But I had a fever of one hundred and three one time. I was practically hallucinating, and she left me alone so she could take her dog for a walk, when she could have called her roommate or sent my assistant.”

“Sorry. Is that why you broke up?”

“No. She met Leo DiCaprio at a party and dumped me for him.” He shrugged.

She giggled, then put her hand over her mouth. Must have been a model. “I’m so sorry. Poor Bax.”

He growled and changed the subject. “Are you getting any business around here? I can see Portland digging vegan, but this is a fairly rural area, not hipster town.”

“I have two jobs this weekend,” she said, pointing to the deep fryer on a shelving unit. “But I definitely want more. I’ll go anywhere in Washington or Oregon if you know people who need catering.”

Bax hoisted the appliance, making sure its cord was stowed so it wouldn’t trip him. “I would think everyone has already booked their caterers for the holidays. Why didn’t you start your business a couple of months ago?”

“I was taking care of my great-aunt. I knew I was inheriting her house and she allowed me to rent my kitchen and do all the paperwork, but she didn’t want me starting the business while she was alive.” She lifted a covered plastic tub from the van’s floor and followed him into the kitchen. “Wow, this is even nicer than my kitchen and my aunt was a stickler.”

He stared at the gleaming stainless steel appliances and dark wood paneling. It seemed unfriendly to him. “I’m glad you like it. I don’t think I remember your great-aunt.”

She set her tub on the end of the pristine, green-and-gray swirled kitchen counter. “She was a world traveler type until the cancer diagnosis. I doubt you ever met her.”

“Guess not. She died recently?”

“In November.” Yakima looked like she was having a hard time swallowing. “Inheriting her house was a wonderful payment for two years of live-in caregiving, but I admit the timing wasn’t great for my new business, or for a big transition after a huge personal loss. I’d just finished culinary school when she had her stroke. I couldn’t afford not to get started now, though.”

“You can hit it harder next year, if you can afford to stay afloat.”

She nudged him. “Referrals are my lifeline.”

“You must have more to bring in from the van,” he said in response. He wasn’t about to promise anything before he tasted her food and saw how the party went.

She smiled politely. “Don’t worry, I’ll get the rest. I’m sure you need to change for the party.”

He stared down at his canvas workpants and old Metallica T-shirt. “Why?”

She shrugged. “No reason.”

“My father isn’t making everyone wear bow ties, is he?” Bax asked. “I know he has that silly ritual, but I haven’t dressed up for Christmas since I was twelve.”

“I have no idea what Dare or Niall wear at the holidays.”

“Not friends with them, huh.”

“Nope.” Neither of them had super-friendly brothers. “You seem kind of nervous. Why don’t you take a walk for a few minutes? Get some fresh air? That always does wonders for my nerves.”

“It hailed earlier.”

“The sun has peeked out now, and it might only last for five minutes. You have to take what you can get at this time of year.”

“Go with me,” he suggested. “I never say no to a hike with a pretty girl.”

“This is hardly the Hollywood Hills,” she said, “but there isn’t even a sidewalk on the road to the east of you. It’s a challenging walk for that reason alone.”

“Let’s do it. You still have your coat on. I’ll just get mine.”

She glanced at her cell phone, clicking a side button to turn the screen on. The time flashed up. “Okay, but I can only spare about ten minutes.”

“I’ll grab a coat and meet you at the front door.”

“Cool. I’ll just pull one last load out of my van.”

A couple of minutes later, he had on an old barn coat that he’d taken out of storage, and an old knit hat with the name of a liquor brand on it tugged over his forehead. Yakima zipped up her wool trench coat as she walked toward him, the hint of a natural strut evident.

Yes, she could have modeled if she’d been just a little taller.

He took her arm as he ushered her out the front door. “We’d better not walk down the east road if you only have ten minutes.”

“Okay, we’ll just go west. There’s even sidewalks on the next block.”

“It is strange that they didn’t bother with them where the bigger houses are.”

“Different builders, probably, and the houses are older. Maybe the regulations changed, too.”

He let his fingers slide down to hers and laced them together. Her glance at him was surprised but he just grinned at her. “We both forgot our gloves. One hand in the pocket, one shared.”

“You have two pockets.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “That one has a hole in it.”

“That coat is awfully old. Didn’t you used to have one just like it?”

“It’s the same one. We toured so much that I just threw all my possessions into storage, maybe a year after I left here, and they were gathering dust ever since. I had it all shipped north when I bought this place. I’ve got quite a lot of boxes piled up in that big shed in the back.”

“You must have been through some of it.”

“Yeah,” he joked. “The one marked ‘winter clothes.’”

He watched her lift her face to the wan sun rays, the light touching her high cheekbones with gold. “You have the most beautiful skin.”

Her cheeks went from gold to dusty red. “What a thing to say to your caterer.”

He squeezed her hand as the edge of the sidewalk came into view. A ribbon of cracked ice clung to the side where a huge tree shaded that part of the street. They stepped up, skirting the slippery spot. “Not just a caterer. A friend, I hope.”

As they turned right into a cul-de-sac, a dog growled. He saw a gray-black mastiff that weighed more than Yakima.

“He’s off leash,” Yakima said, stopping still and tugging him back. “Let’s go back.”

He heard the tremble in her voice. “No, look, he’s tied to a rope.”

She followed his finger with her eyes. “Oh. Why is he growling at us?”

“He’s protecting the property. I’ve met him before. His name is Earl.” He moved forward and when Yakima didn’t come with him, he let her hand go, then held his up to the dog. “Hi Earl, how you doing?”

The dog sniffed his hand and barked. Bax smiled and rubbed behind the dog’s ears. The animal’s warmth heated his stiff fingers. “Good boy.”

He went back to Yakima. “See? You just have to introduce yourself. I can’t remember the owner’s name, but he seemed like a nice guy. Moved here after I left town. They take a walk past my house twice a day.”

Yakima had her arms folded over her chest. He couldn’t decide if she was cold or upset. “Okay. Well, we should go back.”

Bax was about to ask a question but felt something move in his jeans. His phone, vibrating. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at it. While he managed to keep from swearing aloud in front of Yakima, he wasn’t happy to see who the text message was from. “Yeah, I know you have a lot to do, and I have to deal with this.”

They walked back up the street side by side, but Bax was too distracted to joke Yakima out of whatever cloud had settled over her. When they walked up his driveway, though, he realized her lips had gone pale. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, catching the scent of flowery, fragrant oil she must use on her sexy hair. “Cold?”

“Yes.”

“We’d better get inside.” He squeezed her, then let her go to dig for his keys. Finding the chain while he climbed the steps, he made quick work of the door and ushered her into the living room again.

“Yeah.” She smiled tentatively at him then turned toward the kitchen.

His phone vibrated again. He wanted to draw her close, but this wasn’t the time to pursue anything physical. “Call me if you need any help. I’ll be upstairs.” He went to his office to make his call privately.

~

Half an hour later, Yakima had everything she needed set out. She was whisking her fish batter when Bax reappeared with Haldana at his heels.

“What can I do?” Haldana asked. She’d put her hair into a cornet braid and exchanged her jeans for a soft red dress.

Yakima placed her third pie plate next to the other two, and poured in her seasoned panko crumb mixture for the halibut chunks. “Absolutely nothing. You’re a guest.”

“Are you going to try to serve everything yourself?”

Yakima glanced at the four-inch spiked heels her diminutive assistant wore. Haldana had no intention of working the party. She was merely being polite. “Not a big deal. It’s a small family affair.”

“It’s probably time to set out the apps,” Bax suggested. “I’m going to light the fire.”

“Right.” She stared at his perfect backside as he walked away, feeling the erotic tug of attraction, then realized he’d changed into black slacks and a white, button-up shirt. He’d listened to her and looked classy and perfect. And dead sexy.

“Whatcha staring at?” Haldana asked.

“I didn’t think he was going to change,” she explained.

“I think he looks nice,” Haldana said, then wrinkled her nose. “For a cousin.”

“Me, too,” Yakima agreed, then changed the subject. She didn’t want Haldana to know how completely she was lusting after Bax. “Really, I’m under control here.”

“I’ll go hang with Bax then. It’s so strange to see him in person after all this time. I mean, he doesn’t seem as tall, for one thing.”

“You’ve grown a bit.” Yakima laughed.

“A little in twelve years.” Haldana kicked up a heel and left through the kitchen door.

Yakima finished her halibut prep and went to Bax’s large, mostly empty refrigerator and pulled out her smoked salmon, lime juice, and lingonberries. Thankfully, he had a twelve-person set of dishes and cutlery. Her budget hadn’t extended to rental dishes yet, though she planned for it in the near future.

She used his plates that would normally held tea cups to contain her salmon, then sprinkled the berries and juice over each plate. The doorbell rang. When she walked through the front hallway, holding her tray of plated salmon, she saw Rah Rah had arrived and the twins, Thora and Ingrit, were visible through the glass panel on the side of the front door. They had just stepped out of their cars.

All four of the girls were similar in appearance, with varying shades of light hair. None were model height but otherwise looked the part, uniformly slim but curvy, high-cheeked, full-mouthed. Yakima remembered how jealous she’d been of them during bikini season, especially since she knew they were eating the single dad diet of hot dogs, potato chips, and soda most of the time. Harry Connolly was a lot of things, but a cook wasn’t one of them, and the older girls hadn’t been interested in learning to cook either.

Yakima kept walking with the tray, past the girls who greeted each other as if they hadn’t seen each other in weeks. As a service provider, she wanted to cultivate invisibility, unless summoned to be otherwise.

She entered the living room. Changes had been made in the past few days. Gold records had gone up on the walls. Holly sprigs decorated the mantelpiece, along with lit candles and a framed holiday photo that must have been taken when Bax was about ten. And yes, his father and the three brothers all wore green bow ties in the picture. Now, she saw that father and sons had identical, goofy grins, some with missing teeth, but his mother, Tricia, didn’t smile at all. In fact, her expression reminded Yakima of the dazed look on Bax’s face when he’d first opened the front door.

“That’s a good looking bunch,” she said to Bax after she set the tray down on a new leather ottoman in front of the couch. She tried not to wince at the use of an animal by-product in his decorating scheme.