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Authors: Kaira Rouda

Tags: #Romance, #Island, #Southern, #Christmas

The Trouble with Christmas (8 page)

BOOK: The Trouble with Christmas
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“You two are adorable together,” Avery said as soon as they were alone and clearing the table.

“We are not a two,” Lily said quickly, but she was embarrassed that her voice seemed to lack conviction because Avery smiled.

Lily began to wrap up the leftovers from their casual meal, which had been a gourmet feast of exotic cheese, charcuterie, fresh field greens, and crisp French bread along with local delicacies.

“Earth to Lily,” Avery said, and Lily snapped out of her daydream, hoping Avery hadn’t been talking too long. “You like him,” Avery accused.

“Yes, he’s nice,” Lily said trying not to blush. “But I was thinking. Cole has a problem, and I’ll bet you can help me figure out how to help.”

“You love a good problem, especially when it looks like him, don’t you?” Avery teased her while wrapping the leftover shrimp cocktail with a big sheet of aluminum foil.

“I do when it’s a culinary problem,” Lily said and explained what Cole had told her about his restaurant.

“You two have so much in common,” Avery said, dumping the cocktail sauce into a glass container, spilling half of it on the granite counter top. “I think I should let you two solve it together. Plus, I know nothing about the restaurant business, except for how to make a reservation, am I right?”

Lily smiled at her friend. “But that’s why I need your input,” she said, pouring the remaining kale salad into a bigger glass bowl and sealing the lid. “We need to know what people like you want from an authentic Lowcountry restaurant for Christmas.”

“We?” Avery repeated. “He works fast. Bob who?”

“Avery, this is business,” Lily said. “But yes, I thought staying busy would help me not think about Bob marrying someone else this Christmas only a few weeks after dumping me.”

“I know,” Avery said softly. “I shouldn’t tease, but Cole is a hottie. And a culinary hottie at that. What could be better?”

“Avery, stop, I’m serious. I’m helping him with his business, that’s all. He’s not even a chef,” Lily said, too embarrassed to look Avery in the face as she was certain she was blushing.

“Okay, honestly, I’d love a meal from a more simple time. A meal with homemade Christmas cookies with sprinkles for desert,” she said, laughing.

“Honestly? Isn’t that too, well, unsophisticated for the people who have second and third homes on Indigo Island?” Lily said and carried the stemware to the kitchen island.

“No, I don’t think so. We come here for a simple pace, to a more peaceful place. But then, being creatures of habit, we import the same foods, the same drinks, the same—well—everything. We aren’t really experiencing the island, are we? We’re simply making it a reflection of home,” Avery said, stacking the dishes in the sink.

Lily couldn’t love her best friend any more if she tried. “You are brilliant,” she said and hugged Avery hard. “You are so right. Let the inn serve traditional Christmas dinner. Let all of the homeowners who want to make their own Christmas hams and turkeys—either with their staff or on their own—gasp,” Lily said with a wink. “Do just that. Marshside Mama’s is going to give them a different experience.”

“And just what experience will that be?” Avery asked.

“Well, I think I need to take you on a field trip to the restaurant before I can answer that. Let’s do that after my meeting in the morning.”

At Avery’s questioning look, Lily felt her face flush, and she wished she’d kept her breakfast with Cole a secret, at least until it was over.

“You have a date?”

“It’s a meeting to discuss the menu,” Lily said and began to put the dishes into the dishwasher.

“You’re seeing him tomorrow,” Avery grinned and kicked off her shoes. She turned out the kitchen light. “That’s a date.”

Lily was grateful for the dark so Avery didn’t see her bright red face.

“Don’t read anything into it, Aves. We’re discussing a menu,” she helped Avery blow out all the Christmas candles.

“I’m not reading anything into it, until you do,” Avery said. “I think we’ve got all the lights, you need to get a good night’s beauty rest. Race you up the stairs.”

And just as they had done for years, they raced each other to the top. And this time, Lily actually won.

Chapter Six

COLE


W
hat was I
thinking?
Cole asked himself for the millionth time. He was a bachelor, living in a huge house somebody else had decorated for their family. He had a Sub Zero refrigerator that was absolutely empty except for coffee and half a bottle of orange juice. He ate every meal at the restaurant, or, on days off, at the inn. He had a few power bars in the pantry if his blood sugar dropped too low after a workout.

He looked at the clock on the wall. It was eight a.m. Lily, if she showed up, would be here in an hour. In a panic, he called over to the inn for room service. He ordered two plantation breakfasts—two eggs over easy, toast, hash browns, a bowl of fruit, and sausage. He added a large pot of coffee and two fresh squeezed orange juices. When the woman taking his order asked for his room number, he told her to deliver it to the members’ club. And, he promised an extra big tip if she got it there in twenty minutes or less.

Hanging up, Cole raced outside, hopped onto his golf cart and pressed the pedal to the floor, thankful he had plugged the cart in the night before. He still remembered the way Lily made him feel, the warmth that had spread throughout his body just by being near her. He arrived at the Melrose Inn, but realized he’d been in such a rush he hadn’t worn a coat. He hadn’t noticed the temperature had dipped below freezing on this gray morning.

Cole didn’t feel any chill as he ran up the inn stairs two at a time and bounded into the lobby. Paula, the front desk clerk, eyed him curiously, but he shot her his most innocent smile, and he crossed the lobby, passed the Christmas tree, and walked into the Member’s Club. It reminded him of the Putnams’ library, dark wood paneling, walls of bookshelves, and a large fireplace.

Cole sat in one of the brown leather wingback chairs and stared out the large windows, across the winter brown rose garden to the white gazebo and the ocean beyond. It was hard to tell where the sky ended and the sea began; it was that type of gray, drizzly, cold morning.

“Mr. Stanton?” a young woman pushing a cart full of room service domed dishes asked.

“Yes, that’s me. Thank you so much for getting this all prepared so quickly. I need to load it all into my golf cart. I’ll of course bring all the dishes back. Should I pull around back? Yes, that would be better. Why don’t you roll on over to that door over there, and I’ll be right back,” Cole said, knowing he was overwhelming the young woman whose name tag read
Sarah, Georgia
. Cole assumed her name was Sarah and she was from Georgia but it struck him as odd suddenly. Perhaps because he was in a panic.

She stared at him. “You aren’t dining here?”

“Look, Sarah Georgia, I’m in a bit of a rush. I’m going to hand you my club card, here you go, and I want you to add a thirty percent tip on the total. Just roll the food over there to the door and I’ll be right back,” he said and smiled.

He hurried out the way he’d come and maneuvered his golf cart to the ocean side of the inn, parked at the bottom of the stairs, on the oyster encrusted, no carts allowed path, and bounded back up the stairs. He waved at Sarah through the locked glass door.

Sarah turned the knob and reluctantly let him in. She handed him the check, which he signed without reading, stuck his club card in his pocket and said “Let’s just start carrying things out. Shouldn’t take us more than two trips.”

It didn’t and soon he drove carefully, so he didn’t spill the hand-squeezed juice, back to his cottage. By the time his doorbell rang, Cole had re-plated the meal onto his own dishes, put them in the oven to stay warm, hidden the telltale room service trappings in his laundry room, taken a shower, and shaved. He was, in his mind, perfectly prepared for a relaxing breakfast.

He opened the door. Her smile stole his breath. It was crazy how she did that. Lily was wrapped in a navy blue wool coat, white mittens and hat. Her nose was red with the cold.

“Come on in,” he finally said, and she walked inside, oohing and ahhing about how beautiful his home was. The thing was, he didn’t have anything to do with the decoration or the planning or any of the little touches that made his house special. He knew this and saw it through her eyes as if for the first time.

Cole was happy to see her ring finger was unadorned again.

“I haven’t taken the time to personalize the place,” he said, suddenly, wondering why he was confessing to an almost stranger with huge brown eyes with gold flecks in them. She wore a white turtleneck and jeans that fit her perfectly, showing off her amazing body that he needed to stop obsessing about.

“It takes a while to settle in a place. This was a big move for you,” Lily said, her sincerity making him feel better.

“I should at least have a photo of my mom and dad,” Cole said, “And my brother and his wife and twins. Anyway, let’s go into the kitchen. I hope you’re hungry?”

“Famished,” she says, smiling as she follows him into the kitchen. “Smells great. What did you make?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, have a seat,” Cole said. As he pulled the eggs out of the oven he realized the yolks were cooked through. The sausage looked like jerky and forget about the potatoes. He didn’t know what to do.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Lily asked. “Oops,” she smiled when she looked at the plates. “It’s hard to keep cooked foods warm. But don’t worry. I can fix this!”

And as Cole watched, Lily did just that. She grabbed both plates from the oven with a potholder Cole didn’t know he owned and hadn’t ever used. She dumped the contents of both plates into a skillet she’d pulled from below the oven.

“Butter?” she asked.

Cole shook his head.

“I’ll use olive oil,” she said, grabbing the bottle he thought was just decoration on the kitchen island. Cole took a seat at the island. He liked to watch her cook. He liked having her in his home.

He liked her. Period.

“Okay, I think I’ve salvaged everything,” Lily said as she re-plated their meal. “What kind of sausage is this? It’s great!” She added, popping a piece in her mouth.

Cole smiled, knowing he should confess, but he’d made such a poor showing last night telling her about how he’d screwed up so many of the Thanksgiving orders that he was loathe to let Lily know he not only couldn’t cook, that he didn’t even have food in his fridge.

“It’s an Indigo Island specialty. We serve it at the restaurant,” he said, hoping she’d leave it at that.

“Pork, chicken?”

“Pork,” he said, taking the plate she handed to him and following her to the kitchen table.

“It’s chicken and sage,” Lily said and sat across from him just as the clouds outside started to break up and shoot shafts of light through his windows, lighting her up.

“You had someone cook breakfast for us, didn’t you?”

“You busted me,” he admitted. “I know. I’m a restaurant owner without the slightest idea how to keep a meal warm. Pathetic.”

Lily laughed and took a sip of her coffee. Despite the rough start, Cole enjoyed his meal and her company, but he was torn. He wanted to address the ring, or the relationship the ring implied, but he’d just met Lily. Still, he couldn’t get past it.

“I hope I’m not being too forward, but I noticed an engagement ring on your ring finger yesterday and last night it was gone. And I, well, it’s not there today either. Did you just forget to put it on or is there a chance you aren’t engaged?” Cole said. He felt ridiculous, almost desperate to make his hopes crystal clear.

“I was engaged, for three months, to a man named Bob. We dated for almost five years,” Lily said softly.

She slumped a little in her seat, and her face shuttered. Cole was afraid he’d ruined everything. He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. Her hand was so soft, so small. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she looked up at him with impossibly sad eyes. He never wanted to see her that sad ever again. He had no idea what this Bob guy had done to her, but he felt Bob definitely needed to be decked.

“I’m sorry he hurt you,” Cole said. He needed to hold her, and that was all he thought as he stood and walked around the table. And Lily rose and fell into his chest, as he wrapped his arms around her small frame. “And I’m sorry I brought it up,” he said, chin resting on the top of her head. He smelled her hair, clean and flowery, and his heart beat faster in his chest.

“Avery said all along he was a snob and a jerk. I didn’t listen. I guess I just thought it was all real,” Lily said and pulled her head back from his chest to lock eyes with him. “He’s marrying somebody else, on Christmas day.”

“This Christmas?” Cole asked, stunned.

“Yes,” Lily said and buried her face in his shirt again.

“Good riddance,” he said. “His loss. You don’t need someone like that in your life.”

Lily’s tears dampened his chest, but she laughed a little. “Are you for real?” she asked.

He reached down and swept the tear off her cheek with his thumb then placed his finger beneath her chin and tilted her head back for a soft kiss. He meant to pull back, but when her lips parted, he instinctively pressed harder. She felt so right in his arms, so yielding, and she smelled wonderful. His arousal increased with Lily’s gasp, but reluctantly, he broke off the kiss and pulled her into a tight hug, his heart thudded in his chest. “I’m very real,” he said, wishing he hadn’t become so instantly and intensely aroused. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, but Lily did something to him, yet now was definitely not the time. She’d just broken up with her fiancé, and he had a restaurant to try and run.

BOOK: The Trouble with Christmas
6.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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