Christmas Comes to Main Street (23 page)

Nate shifted against the cushion, hating the part of himself that wanted to say no, that he didn't need to stare into the eyes of a kid who only knew Christmas like he once had, who relied on the kindness of others to make it something better. But he knew Kara had a point, too. Besides, she probably just needed his help for the heavy lifting.

“I'll think about it,” he said. “My aunt might have other plans for me,” he added, hoping the joke would lighten the mood.

If Kara was offended, she didn't show it. “Fair enough,” she said. “I'm leaving right after I deliver the cookies for tea. Sad to think it's my last cookie drop-off of the year.”

Nate finished his wine and set the glass down. “I've gotten used to those visits,” he said as he leaned closer to brush a strand of hair from her cheek. Desire burned within him as he felt the heat of her skin against his fingertips. He
had
gotten used to those visits. And he wasn't ready yet to think of how he would feel when they were gone.

Kara hissed in a small breath as he reached out a hand and traced it down the back of her ear and down the length of her smooth neck. His other hand grazed her fingers as he slowly took her wineglass from her hand and set it down on the table. Kara held her breath, knowing he was going to kiss her again, feeling how much she wanted it as her stomach tightened. Anticipation bubbled within her as his face neared hers, his lips slightly parted until their mouths were joined. His kiss was light, but far from tentative, and she responded eagerly, letting herself enjoy the comfort of his touch, the thrill it sent within her as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. The kiss was familiar, as if no time had passed since the last, and he pressed her to his chest now, wasting no time in finishing where they'd left off. She could feel the pounding of his heart against her breast as their mouths explored each other, barely stopping for breath.

Heat radiated somewhere deep inside her belly as their kiss intensified, breaking only long enough for her to feel his warm breath on her face as his mouth moved to her neck and that little spot behind her ear that always made her shiver. His arms loosened their hold on her waist, and his hand came to slide up her stomach and over her breast, and she craned her neck as his mouth continued its trail, lower, the touch so light but effective, she could only close her eyes and sigh with pleasure.

Needing that close, breath-stopping connection again, she opened her eyes and traced a finger over the stubble of his jaw, and laced her hands through the hair that curled at the nape of his neck as he brought his mouth to hers once more. He nibbled her bottom lip, teasing her with his light touch, and then opened his mouth to hers once more, deepening their connection.

Kara sighed into his mouth as he moved his hand down around her hips, exploring the lengths of her thighs, moving his hands down and around, until shots of fire sparked in her belly as he brought his hands up the inside of her thighs, pulling away just before she thought the anticipation would break her. With the heat of the flames in the fireplace, her body heated under the soft wool of her cashmere sweater, but she shivered as he slid a hand under the hem of her shirt, his fingers soft on her stomach as he slowly traced his way up until his hands cupped her breasts over the lace of her bra, pulling it back to press his warm palm to her skin.

Breaking their kiss, Kara pulled back and let him push the sweater over her head. He flung it to the side, his eyes fixed on her body as his hands slowly unhooked her bra. She gasped as he leaned forward, bringing her nipple to his mouth, teasing it with his teeth as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Sliding his hands down to her hips, Nate gently pushed her from his lap onto the floor, tilting her back against the rug. Kara reached up, tugging at the sweater Nate wore, eager to feel the heat of his skin against hers, run her fingers over the smooth plane of his chest.

He leaned into her, his kiss hungry and intensifying with each second as they pressed against each other. She felt him hard between her legs, felt the strength of his desire in bursts as his body rubbed against hers, her fingers digging into his back.

They could go to the bedroom, she knew, but somehow she couldn't be bothered to suggest it. The light from the tree continued to twinkle long after the last of the logs was snuffed out, and Kara leaned into Nate, wrapping her arms tighter against his bare skin under the thick chenille blanket they'd covered themselves with, and waited for morning to come. Even though she never wanted it to come at all.

K
ara was already gone by the time Nate awoke, and the little note she'd scribbled and placed on the throw pillow next to his said, “You know where to find me.”

He smiled as he pushed himself onto his elbows, orienting himself with his surroundings. There was something nice about the thought of Kara just one floor below him, rolling out dough and baking cookies, serving them with a smile. He pulled his sweater on quickly, eager to get dressed and downstairs, until he saw the flashing light on his phone and the fifteen missed calls. From his aunt.

Nate cursed under his breath and clicked on the first message. It was casual enough, a simple inquiry into what time he might be coming back that night. By the last of the messages, she was threatening to report him missing, unless, as she all but cooed into the phone, he was lucky enough to still be in Kara Hastings's company?

Nate closed his eyes and shook his head. He'd deal with his aunt later. Right now, he needed a good, strong cup of coffee. And a cookie.

Remembering the back stairs to the kitchen that Kara had used the first time he'd been to her apartment, Nate tidied up the living room, grinning ruefully at the mess they'd made in their passion last night, and hurried down the back stairs. The bakery's kitchen was empty; no doubt Kara was attending to a line of customers, and he couldn't help but let his gaze linger on the gingerbread house for just a moment. It was a work of art—perfectly designed and scaled, with thoughtful and colorful decoration. Kara might have her doubts, but it would be a tough entry to beat.

He wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not anymore.

Eager to get away from the entry and all thoughts of the contest and its ramifications, Nate pushed on the door to the storefront, hoping to casually join the rest of the morning crowd, when he was instead greeted by alert and all too familiar green eyes.

“Well, there you are!” Maggie exclaimed, pressing her lips together with a look of mock scolding.

“Aunt Maggie.” Nate chuckled under his breath and glanced over at Kara, who winced and offered only a helpless shrug before turning to the next customer. “Shouldn't you be at the inn?”

“It's not a jail,” she quipped. “I do get out and about, you know. Once the breakfast plates are cleared, I come and go freely until high tea.”

Nate scratched his forehead. Oh boy. “I just… I've never seen you here before.”

Now that was a stupid thing to say. The look his aunt gave him underscored her surprise, no doubt cementing what she'd secretly known to be true all along or had at least hoped. “I see,” she said. He waited for her to blink. She didn't. “I didn't realize you'd become a regular at Sugar and Spice.”

“Oh, well, I like the cookies. I try not to eat the ones for the tea, but…” She wasn't buying it, and he decided to stop there.

“You like the cookies or you like the company?” she asked pertly.

Nate looked over at Kara again. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail that bounced at her shoulders, and even from across the room he could catch the tinkle of her laugh, the sound as sweet as bells. “Both, you could say,” he told his aunt.

“Oh!” She clasped her hands to her chest, where he noticed a giant Santa face grinning back at him in various textures of yarn. “Oh, I was hoping this would happen! I knew it. I just knew it. I told Kara over and over that I knew just the man for her, but oh, would she listen? No. You young people have to learn everything the hard way.”

“Is there any other way?” Nate asked wryly.

“Oh…” Maggie narrowed her eyes in frustration as she reached out and gave him a good shaking by the shoulders. “So… does this mean you'll stay?”

Nate blinked at his aunt. “Stay in Briar Creek?”

“Well, where else?” she trilled. “What reason do you have to leave now?”

He wasn't amused. “My job, for starters,” he said.

“
Pfft.
I told you… you have a job here,” she said gaily.

Nate studied her in dismay. “Aunt Maggie,” he said softly.

He hated the look of hurt that dimmed her eyes. “Don't mind me. I'm just getting carried away. Of course you have to go back to Boston. You have an important job there. You have responsibilities.”

“I do.” He sighed. Big responsibilities, and not just professionally speaking. He'd worked hard to give himself financial security, to provide a good life for himself, for his parents. He eyed his aunt. “But you're important, too, Aunt Maggie. I'll visit more often, I promise.”

“You say that, but…”

“But I mean it,” he said firmly, squaring his jaw. “I mean it.”

His aunt patted his arm and leaned in closely, her green eyes misty. “I know your parents struggled at times, and I know your father was too proud to admit it. But money isn't everything, my boy. A wise old woman told you that. Remember it.” She winked and turned to join the queue that was now wrapped around the store, all leading up to Kara, who was frantically punching numbers into the cash register and bagging cookies as quickly as her arms would let her.

His aunt was right. Money wasn't everything. But that was easy for her to say.

Nate seemed quieter than usual as they drove down the snow-covered road into Forest Ridge. He'd bought so many toys for the Hope Center that they wouldn't all fit in the back of his car, but luckily Ivy offered up the use of her shiny new flower-delivery van. Clearly, business was going well for her, and it inspired Kara with the hope that she could someday say the same for herself.

“Christmas Eve was always my favorite day of the year,” Kara mused, and then silently motioned Nate to turn right at the next stop sign. “There was so much anticipation, so much excitement waiting for the next morning.”

Catching his stony expression, she stopped herself. “I'm sorry. That was thoughtless of me.”

Nate's brow pinched as he gripped the steering wheel, following the course she'd instructed. “It's fine. I don't need protecting.”

Kara frowned. “Everything okay?”

Nate slid her a lazy smile and her heart rolled over. “Just thinking about work. Getting back into that mindset. I'm not used to taking much time off. I've got to hit the ground running, as they say.”

“When do you go, then?”

“The day after tomorrow,” he said.

Kara nodded, hating the disappointment that landed squarely in her chest, even though she'd known all along their time together couldn't last forever. Much as she had started hoping it could.

“Do you think you'll visit again?” she asked.

“I plan on it. My aunt seems a little lonely. It makes me sad.”

Kara had never thought of Mrs. Griffin as lonely. She was surrounded by guests, her friends, and she was always in the thick of activities on Main Street. Now she wondered if it was all a brave ruse, meant to disguise a broken heart. “Everyone loved your uncle,” Kara offered.

“He was a good man, not that I knew him well. My father didn't keep in touch much. I think it was easier for him that way.”

Kara stared out the window at the snow-capped trees, the suggestion of a deer darting in the woods somewhere in the distance. After this bend, they'd be in downtown Forest Ridge, and the Hope Center was just at the edge of town.

“I can't wait to see the look on the kids' faces when they see all this,” she said, feeling her heart warm at the image.

“I thought you said there weren't going to be any kids there. That it was an anonymous gift. I thought this was a drop-off.” Nate looked at her sharply, and Kara opened her mouth and then closed it again.

“There's a special event for some of the kids today. A party, if you will. They've been looking forward to it. I thought—”

“I wish you'd told me.” Nate sighed as he pulled into the parking lot at the back of the brick building.

Kara sat perfectly still in the car even after he'd turned the ignition. He looked so unhappy, she wanted to reach out, hold his hand, but she wasn't sure if he'd push it away. “You don't have to come in,” she said softly.

“No,” he said. “Some of that stuff is heavy, and this parking lot is a sheet of ice.” He muttered to himself as he unlocked his seat belt and flung open the door.

They didn't exchange words as they carried the toys into the back room, where a volunteer would itemize everything and assign it to a child's name on the list. From behind a half-closed door, they could make out sounds of Christmas carols and children laughing.

Kara slanted a glance at Nate, who looked tense, trying to focus on making sure every item was accounted for.

“Well,” said Bridget, the volunteer coordinator, as she wrote the last toy down on the list. “Looks like these children have someone watching over them this year.”

Kara lifted her eyes to Nate, but he didn't meet her gaze. His jaw was squared as he stared down at his feet, his shoulders hunched.

“Well, we should probably get going,” Kara hedged. It wasn't what she had planned, but seeing how uncomfortable Nate was being here, she thought it was best under the circumstances to make a polite excuse for them both.

“Wait.” Bridget sized up Nate, her lips pursing as she did some internal calculations. “You're a little thinner than I would have liked. A little handsomer, too,” she giggled, and patted her gray hair. “But the man who was scheduled to play Santa called in sick today, and there's about fifty kids out there who are waiting for him to walk through that door.”

Kara stared at Nate in horror, her mind racing as she thought of an excuse, somewhere they should be. She shouldn't have brought him here. He'd been so generous, so selfless, and she'd touched a nerve.

“We wouldn't want to let the kids down at Christmas,” he said, managing a tight smile.

“Excellent!” Bridget clasped her hands together and flung open a closet, where she pulled a Santa suit off the rack. Turning to Kara she said, “And do I have a Mrs. Claus?”

Kara blushed and looked at Nate for a reaction, and for a moment she saw a hint of that man she'd come to cherish. His brown eyes glinted with amusement and his mouth quirked as he struggled to hide a smile. “Only if she has to wear a wig,” he said.

Nate had to admit Kara looked more than a little cute in that wig, but it was the dress that really made him look twice. Short and red with striped tights that resembled candy canes; he itched to rub his hands up the length of her thighs and have a repeat of last night's bliss.

It had felt so right, under the tree, with the lights twinkling and the fire crackling, warm against their bare skin. He'd been caught up in the moment, in her taste, the softness of her skin, the comfort of her touch. But getting close to Kara like this was no different than getting swept up in the magic of Christmas. He lived hours away. They both knew it. It was a picture-perfect fantasy, just like the idyllic town of Briar Creek itself. But it wasn't reality. Not his, anyway.

Kara hooked a basket of candy canes over her wrist and grinned up at him. “Let's hope half the kids left their glasses at home,” she said.

“Ah, but he's Santa's helper then,” Bridget stressed, giving them both a push toward the door. “You know, for the ones who express doubt.”

Nate winked down at Kara. Oh, there would be doubt all right. He barely filled out the suit, even with a few extra pillows thrown in at the waistline, and the beard was a step above a string of cotton balls. Surely some perceptive youngster would notice his eyebrows were still brown…

But there was no time to worry about any of that now. The doors opened, and, as instructed, Nate waved his bells. A roar of excitement went up from the children, some of whom were jumping up and down, their faces brightened with such pure joy, he felt a ball of shame at his hesitation.

Such a simple thing. Santa. He remembered when he believed, himself. And he remembered when he stopped believing, too. When that wonder he saw shining in the eyes he passed on the way to the chair at the end of the church hall vanished from his world.

He settled himself onto the chair, remembering at the last minute to throw out a few “Ho, ho, hos” as he did so, and glanced up at Kara, whose cheeks were pink from trying not to laugh.

The first few kids were easy. So easy, it made him a little sad. A doll for a little girl with brown hair and big blue eyes and a baseball glove for a boy whose hair looked like it hadn't met a brush in days. Would they receive it? No doubt their classmates were asking for so much more.

Kara handed each child a candy cane, greeting them warmly with a promise of a merry Christmas, and told them to go to the back of the room, where milk and cookies would soon be served. It was only then that Nate realized she'd made the cookies, and looking across the room, there had to be dozens. Shame bit at him when he thought of how much she'd invested in this, how much time, spirit, kindness… while he… he'd just thrown money at it. Bought out a toy store. Tried to drop them off and slip out. But Kara… she was what made the event special.

He swallowed hard when she looked at him, her smile so wide and genuine, he felt a little bit of his chest begin to hurt. No one he knew smiled like that back in Boston, at least not in his circle. They were too busy looking for the next big client, focusing on the bottom line, not the meaning behind it.

“Santa… Santa…”

Nate wasn't even registering Kara's words until he suddenly realized that for this moment, he was Santa. He startled just in time to see a chubby little boy hurtling toward him at full speed, and he grunted loudly when the kid landed firmly on his lap.

Grimacing against the pain rushing down the length of his thighbone, he put on his best Santa smile and said, “Ho, ho, ho.”

The boy blinked at him, not buying any of it. “That's not a real beard,” he said matter-of-factly.