Muffins And Mistletoe (A Starlight Hills Holiday Novella) (3 page)

"Like dragging me down to help set up yesterday? Dalton could have done it, but that didn't suit your nefarious plot, did it?"

"Okay, fine. I admit I'm worried about you, that's all. I am your mother after all. We're all worried about you. You sure you can't stay for a few minutes? Maybe we should talk about Thanksgiving. You can't just bottle it up. It's not healthy." She touched his arm and smiled.

His jaw clenched. "I'm not talking about Thanksgiving."

"But Corinne—"

"I'm not talking about Thanksgiving."

She wasn't going to let Corinne go that easily, but what about
his
pride? What about
his
heart?

His father leaned against the island and watched her wrap up the muffins. "Maybe Jimmy's too busy to go to the gala tonight," he said, coming to Jimmy's aid—not that it would do any good against the force that was Bitty Crane once she was on a mission.

His mother's eyes opened wide. "Of course he's not too busy, George. He wouldn't dream of missing it."

"I gotta go." Jimmy grabbed the bag of muffins from her without meeting her eyes.

As the clock on the wall chimed seven, he juggled the bag of muffins and both coffees and leaned against the swinging door leading out into the shop. Balancing his breakfast in his arms, he got to the front door and jolted to a stop.

Standing there in the cold with her blonde curls swirling around her face, Corinne stared back at him.

She stood beside the window. The dark red coat, with its billows of fluffy down, hid the curves of the slender body he knew so well. Her breath puffed from her lips, lips that trembled in the morning cold as her eyes took in the full displays of muffins and cupcakes before rising to meet his.

Nothing would make him happier than to drag her into his arms and warm those lips with his.

But a kiss wouldn't solve anything. It was a physical need that would go unfulfilled. His heart needed more.

Still, he couldn't pretend he didn't see her. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he opened the door.

Tomorrow he was definitely going to Charlie's Coffee Hut.

THREE

Corinne walked inside the Itty Bitty Bake Shop while Jimmy held the door open. She brushed past him and inhaled the clean smell of his soap mingling with the coffee and fresh muffins from the shop.
Home.
That was what it smelled like, what it felt like, to walk through a door with him on the other side. She'd always known in her heart that this man meant everything to her, that walking through any door and into his arms was all she would ever need.

Yet, at that table last week, she'd let her head convince her she needed more time. She'd looked over at her brother, alone and divorced after less than a year of marriage. Then she'd thought about their parents and the years of fighting after they split up when she was five. Instead of comparing their relationships to hers, she should have been looking in the eyes of the man she loved and let her heart do the thinking. What she wouldn't give to be able to go back and do it all over again. The right way this time.

The tiny bell over the entry jingled as the bake-shop door closed behind her and forced her thoughts back to the present. She scanned the deserted shop, each table with a small potted poinsettia in the center. Soon the regular morning crowd would bring the little shop to life. She tried not to look into Jimmy's eyes, not wanting to see the hurt she caused, but she couldn't help herself. For a second, their gazes locked, and then he quickly turned his head. She couldn't blame him, but she wasn't ready to give up.

She'd hoped for a few minutes alone with his mother to go over their plan for tonight. Catching him here now was an added bonus.

She removed her gloves, shoved them in her pockets and swallowed the nervous lump in her throat, knowing she had to say something. "Thanks for letting me in. It's freezing out there this morning." She tugged on the red and green scarf looped around her neck as she stood there, hoping he'd stay and not rush out the door.

"Supposed to be below freezing all week, I hear." He shrugged and reached to retrieve the bag off the table by the window where he'd left it before opening the door for her. "I guess you're here for the gala committee meeting."

"Yes. Perfect timing to catch a ride into town with Dalton, too."

"Speaking of your patient brother, he's waiting for me. I should go." He was eager to escape, but also too polite to grab his muffins and run. No matter how angry or upset he was with anyone, his character would never allow him to be rude. It was one of the many qualities she loved about him. She'd latch on to any opportunity that might enable her to get back into his good graces. If he wanted her to run barefoot and naked out into Triangle Park and dance around the Christmas tree proclaiming she was as idiot, she'd probably do that too.

She decided not to suggest that.

With a tentative smile, she looked up at him and hoped it would be contagious. "He's in the truck, but..." She tilted her head and tried to gauge just how long being polite would last before he raced out and away from her. "You might want to give him a few minutes alone, though. He's not in a good mood this morning. Maybe if he came in and had breakfast here—"

"No…no, that's definitely not a good idea." Jimmy quickly said with a quirky grin while looking over his shoulder at the door to the kitchen.

She followed his gaze, and while she knew he was talking about his mother, Corinne only noticed the mistletoe hanging on a small hook above the swinging door. She simply couldn't pass up the gift that little sprig of holiday magic offered, right then, right there.

"You know, your mother was right about Dalton and Melanie." She undid the top button of her coat and took a step toward him, the heels of her boots clicking on the tiled floor.

He stepped backward and watched her every move, following her fingers as they slowly undid the rest of her coat buttons. Why didn't she have the foresight to wear something more provocative? The black ankle-length skirt she wore beneath her coat would hardly tempt him. Though, from the way his eyes were focused on her, she might not be so sure.

With his hands full of coffee and the bag of muffins, he didn't have a free hand to zip up the down vest he wore over a gray flannel shirt. In fact, he didn't have a free hand to do anything but move his feet. His work boots scuffed across the floor as he tried to move away, but she blocked his path to the door. When his breath hitched slightly, she knew he might be losing his battle for control. She took advantage of his discomfort and let her gaze linger on the sensual curve of his lips before continuing down to the base of his throat, where the muscles in his neck moved when he swallowed. And he swallowed hard, spurring her on. A few dark curls peeked out from the neckline of his white undershirt, sending shock waves of warm twitches along her fingertips.

There was something so sexy about a man in jeans and a flannel shirt. No pretenses, no overblown ego, simply a hardworking man with muscles naturally honed from his trade. There was no place she'd ever felt safer, or more loved, than in the arms of Jimmy Crane.

Now wasn't the time to remind herself how stupid she'd been. She needed to focus on making everything right again. So she moved another step closer. "Your mom's got a sense, Jimmy. Even Dalton says he should have listened to her."

Jimmy cleared his throat. "Her lucky streak continues. Good for her."

"It's more than luck. Give her credit. I've never known her to be wrong. Have you?" she questioned, inching toward him with her fingers running along the side of her neck.

"You can call it whatever you want, but all streaks come to an end." His jean-clad backside hit the glass display and he moved to his right. The bag crinkled as his grip tightened. "Maybe you should do an article on her for the
Herald.
"

"I'm covering the gala, but thanks for the idea. She would make a good interview."

Only a few more feet and he'd be right where she needed him to be. Corinne leaned in, so close her coat bumped against the muffin bag in his hands. Her heart threatened to beat right out of her sweater and burst through the front of her coat. Her pulse pounded in her ears, but she pressed forward. This was her chance. She wasn't going to blow it.

Corinne looked into his deep blue eyes and knew that was where her future was. When he met her stare, the smallest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. He was softening. She could feel it down to the tips of her red-painted toes.

The
open
sign in the window flashed to life and Johnny Mathis crooning "Winter Wonderland" filtered into the small shop to complete the festive mood. The rest of the committee would be there any minute, so she had to move now.

"Jimmy, I'm sorry. I don't need any more time. I know we fit."

He blinked, clearly shaken, and took a step back—directly under the mistletoe.

She stood on her tiptoes, reached for his shoulders and kissed him.

* * *

Jimmy realized he was under the mistletoe less than a second before her lips were on his. Hot coffee in one hand and a bag of muffins in the other, he couldn't put his arms around her even if he wanted to. And he wanted to.

Corinne's fingers pressed into his shoulders and her soft lips crushed against his. While Johnny Mathis sang about chestnuts roasting on an open fire, flames of a different kind flooded through every inch of his body. Her warm fingertips touched his neck and along his jaw, then her lips parted and he was powerless to do anything but accept the invitation her mouth offered. He inhaled her intoxicating scent, something floral, a little spicy—or maybe that was just the cinnamon drifting in from the kitchen behind him. With the tender feel of her lips on his, he couldn't resist kissing her back.

His tongue danced along the edge of her mouth, tasting the sweetness of her morning coffee and the remnants of minty mouthwash. When her fingers tunneled through his hair, knocking the hat off his head, he thought his hair might catch fire. Her other hand cupped the side of his face, keeping him captive. His skin sparked wherever she touched, and at that moment he would indulge her anything. He let out a deep and primal groan, and his lips continued tasting, prying. Hungry for more, he crushed himself against her, his tongue darting in and out, tracing the tips of her teeth and then dueling with her own eager tongue. The warmth of her mouth spread like a fast-moving blaze along every nerve. All he could think about was his lips exploring the curve of her jaw, down her neck and into the sexy hollow of her throat.

Suddenly he couldn't catch his breath. The bag he'd been clutching fell to the floor and his arm went around her waist. He didn't want only the sweet kisses she offered, he wanted more. So enamored and caught up in the moment, he didn't even care they stood in his mother's deserted bake-shop.

He leaned in, sealing his mouth possessively against hers, and in two steps had her back against the wall beside the door. His fingers traced the edges of her arm along the bulk of her coat and finally found the opening in front. Without hesitation, his hand slid inside and around her waist and found the small of her back to drag her up against him. She arched to meet his embrace, her form fitting perfectly to his. She released her own groan of desire and his pants grew snug. The coffee in his hand landed on the ground at their feet.

Without missing a beat, or breaking their connection, he moved her to the side as his hands landed on the wall beside her head. Their bodies locked together, her arms went around his waist and her hands splayed across his back locking him to her.

His fingers found the nape of her neck and then tunneled through the thick tangle of her silky golden curls. Lost in the abyss, he felt her heart beating frantically within the folds of her sweater. The next thing he knew, they were sliding down the wall.

He was losing his grip on her; he leaned forward, his arm wrapped around her waist.

The swinging door opened and together they tumbled through and lost their balance. With a thud, Corinne landed on the floor with him on top of her. Too stunned to say anything, for a second he simply stared into her beautiful green eyes. She took a deep breath and a slow, tentative smile turned up the edges of her lips. His pants became uncomfortably tight and if he didn't move soon, he would kiss her again right there on the floor. Quickly he scrambled to his feet and offered her his hand. As he helped her up, she tugged her coat back into place, and he reached out to brush the curls from her shoulder. His fingers lingered on the side of her face, caressing the soft skin.

"Are you okay?"

She looked down at their coffee-stained boots and then back up at him, giving him the brightest smile he'd seen in days. "Oh, yeah."

He couldn't help but smile back, lost in the moment. Then he took a step back and remembered where he was. He turned and there they were—his father, with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the stainless island, and his mother, hands on her red-aproned hips with a look that he could only describe as sheer joy lighting up her face.

He knew better than to say anything. If he stood there for an hour, he'd never find the right words to express the way he felt at that moment. Embarrassed? Invigorated? At the very least, confused. Kissing Corinne set everything right in his world, ignited his soul, and he finally felt whole again for the first time in over a week. But, while she'd said they fit and that she didn't need more time, she'd never actually said she wanted to marry him.