Jingle Bell Romance

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One minute they were bantering back and forth, and the next she morphed into the Ice Queen. Maybe being called a snow bunny annoyed her, he thought, taking the lights into the living room where Lainie and Hannah were unloading ornaments from a box.

One thing he knew for certain: it didn’t matter if she liked him or despised him. Tomorrow morning, he’d be leaving Holiday Harbor—and its puzzling new resident—and heading back to warm, sunny Richmond. He’d been so cold the past few days, it would probably take him a week to completely thaw out.

“Brrr,” Todd commented, echoing Nick’s thoughts while unloading an armload of wood. “The temperature’s really dropping out there.”

As he tossed logs onto the fire, Noah bounced in a swing that hung from the door frame, gurgling his baby opinion. With Christmas carols playing on the stereo and Hannah chirping about the history of this ornament and that one, the Martins’ modest living room hummed like a restless beehive.

As if on cue, Lainie came over to sit on the threadbare arm of Nick’s chair. “Nice, huh?”

“Sure, if you like that gooey family thing.”

Laughing, she gave him a playful smack on the shoulder. “If you hate it so much, why don’t you hide up in the guest room?”

“It’s warmer down here,” he retorted.

“Oh, come on. This has to be better than an empty condo with a wreath on the door.”

“Sure,” he grumbled, “’til you have to clean it all up.”

“That’s my big brother, always finding the clouds,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re s-o-o serious about everything, I don’t know how you stand it.”

He couldn’t, Nick nearly blurted but managed to stop himself. After their earlier tiff about Ian, he didn’t want to bring up the past again. Lainie was three years younger than him but had grown up considerably since becoming a mom. At her prodding, Nick had endured some long, painful talks this week, and they’d begun rebuilding the once-close relationship he’d destroyed when he all but disappeared from her life. He figured the best way to keep that going was to leave the past buried and move on.

Lainie picked up a needle and started threading it through fresh popcorn. It smelled too good to resist, and Nick snuck a few pieces when she wasn’t looking. Her nonstop chattering about people around town alerted Nick that something was on her mind, and he grinned. Some things never changed. “What is it, Lain?”

Keeping her eyes on what she was doing, she said, “We’ll be going to a special service tonight. You’re welcome to come with us if you want.”

Nick hadn’t voluntarily attended church since he was eight. With the exception of Lainie and Todd’s wedding, he hadn’t seen the inside of one in more than ten years. And even if he was suffering from an attack of remorse and mistakenly entered a sanctuary, it certainly wouldn’t be his father’s.

He gave his sister a chiding look which she didn’t notice because she refused to meet his gaze. To avoid upsetting Hannah, he softly said, “You know me better than that.”

Her careless shrug did nothing to hide her disappointment. “I thought it was worth a try. People change.”

“Not me,” he assured her as gently as he could. “I made that decision a long time ago for lots of reasons. It’s the way I’ve chosen to live my life, and I’m good with it.”

Letting the popcorn strand fall into the bowl, she looked at him with pleading eyes. “I don’t understand why you insist on doing everything the hardest way possible. Todd and I get so much from our faith and that really helps when things get tough. Like when he lost his teaching job here, and Hannah was so sick. It was the worst time to have another baby, and when we found out about Noah, it felt like a disaster. God led us through all that. Todd found an even better position in Oakbridge, and we’ve never been happier.”

When she finally paused for a breath, Nick couldn’t help smiling up at her. She was so sweet, crediting God for something she and Todd had accomplished through determination and hard work. Taking her hand, he said, “I’m glad to hear that, but it doesn’t work that way for everyone. Some of us are outside the circle, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“That’s not true,” she whispered intently, squeezing his hand between both of hers. “I know it’s not. God hasn’t forgotten about you, Nick. You just have to open up and let Him back into your life.”

She couldn’t be more wrong, but he didn’t want to debate religion with her while her husband and daughter were arranging figurines of Jesus and the wise men in the manger on a nearby table.

So, out of respect for his sister and her happy family, Nick swallowed his pride and kept his mouth shut.

* * *

Early Monday morning, Nick found himself back at Toyland, drinking the best coffee he’d had in days while Julia laid out the unexpected offer she’d hinted at on the phone last night. He couldn’t believe his ears.

“An exclusive?” he echoed, getting a nod in reply. Sitting by the lobby fireplace in a burgundy velvet wing chair, he was surrounded by more Christmas trappings than he’d ever seen in his life. It was enough to make him wonder if he was losing his grip on reality. “I thought you wanted to keep your new life here a secret.”

“Oh, that couldn’t last.” Flicking her hand in a queenly gesture, she set off a string of silver jingle bells divided by what he assumed were tiny sapphires. Lots of them. “Some reporter or another will track me down eventually. This way, I control the situation.”

“And the message,” he added, to show he understood. “In case you haven’t figured it out already, I’m not used to taking orders. What makes you think I’ll play along?”

Leaning forward, she pinned him with a knowing look. “Yesterday, you told me you miss getting the scoop and writing your own stories. I’m giving you one, right here, right now. Take it or leave it.”

Ordinarily he wasn’t a fan of ultimatums, but he was tempted beyond belief. Nick didn’t doubt for a second that if he didn’t grab this opportunity, another journalist would. Julia’s story had flash and grit, two things people loved to read about. The businessman in him immediately went into promotional gear, considering the impact something like this might have. New Kaleidoscope readers could sample this rich-and-famous storyline, then purchase a limited subscription to read the ending. If things worked out, they’d like what they saw and buy a full subscription. Since he’d be doing the work, there’d be no freelance writer to pay so everything that came in would be pure profit. Unlike most business arrangements he made, there was no downside for him.

Of course, agreeing to her terms meant he’d be stuck in Holiday Harbor longer than he’d planned. But because everything was handled online, he could run the magazine from anywhere. It was something he’d never taken advantage of before, aside from using his condo’s spare room as an office. But for a story like this, it might make sense to change things up, even if it meant staying in the last place he wanted to be. In the overall scheme of things, the impact such a high-profile article would have on his business was worth a little discomfort. Beyond that, he’d be writing again. Researching Julia would be interesting enough. Getting to know the reclusive ambassador’s daughter through personal interviews would be downright fascinating. “One thing.”

“Yes?”

“You’ve had an amazing life, along with your parents. I don’t think one article will do it justice.”

For a split second, he thought he saw a smile quivering at the corner of her mouth. Then it was gone, and she asked, “What do you have in mind?”

“A serialized biography, book-length, but posted online in pieces.” Inspiration struck, and he added, “We’ll call the new section ‘Person of Interest.’ Readers will get hooked and come back every week for the latest segment on the extraordinary Julia Stanton.”

“So this will help your business?”

“Definitely. Yours, too. Once folks know you’re here, your online orders should go through the roof.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. It would be nice to do my books with black ink instead of red.”

The way she said it convinced him she was being totally honest with him—she really hadn’t considered the financial benefit that would come from the articles. Nick couldn’t imagine why else she’d propose an invasion of her self-imposed exile, but maybe by the time they were done, it would make sense to him.

For now, he scoffed, “Like that’s a problem for you.”

That got him a steely glare. “Rule number one—assume nothing. Things in my life aren’t always what they seem to be.”

Picking up on her somber tone, he nodded. “Got it. Does that mean I’m in?”

When she offered him a slender hand to seal their deal, it occurred to him this was the first time he’d allowed a woman to call the shots with him. Why Julia was so different, he couldn’t say, but it added another angle to their—friendship? No, that wasn’t right. He’d just met her, and they’d spent most of their time dancing around the ring, trying to get a read on each other.

He couldn’t say where all that posturing might lead, but he sure was looking forward to finding out.

Chapter Four

“I won’t be opening the store for another hour,” Julia said as she stood. To her surprise, Nick got to his feet in a gentlemanly gesture she hadn’t expected. Apparently, his manners were better than he’d led her to believe. “Would you like a tour of the building?”

“Sure.”

He’d already seen her office, and he politely followed her through the storeroom, piled high with boxes of toys she had to inventory before restocking the shelves. He didn’t pose many questions or take notes, instead letting her ramble on about whatever she thought might be most interesting to him. When he asked how she decided how much of each thing to buy, she laughed.

“Most people drop dead of boredom by this point,” she said approvingly. “You’re very patient.”

“This was your idea, not mine,” he pointed out. “I don’t wanna push.”

“Is that right?” Folding her arms, she gazed at him thoughtfully. “From what I’ve seen, Kaleidoscope doesn’t pull punches with other sources. What makes me so different?”

“You tell me.”

A lazy grin moved across his features, settling in to gleam in his dark eyes. It was a challenging look, as if he’d stumbled across a mystery that fascinated him. Realizing she was that mystery made her flush and take a hesitant step back. With his brooding poet looks and dangerous vibe, Nick McHenry was just the kind of man she was drawn to.

And just the kind of man she needed to avoid.

Reminding herself that their current arrangement was really aimed at making peace between him and his father, she quickly regained her composure and smiled. “Maybe you’ll find some answers upstairs.”

Turning, she led him to a door marked PRIVATE. Just as he had the morning they met, he reached past her to open it. “Ladies first.”

On her way up, she flicked on a light switch and was greeted with a loud, “When shall we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, or in rain?”

The two phrases rhymed perfectly in a high-brow British accent, and Nick stopped dead, cocking his head with a baffled expression. “What was that?”

“Shakespeare.”

“I recognize the line from Hamlet, but who said it?”

“Shakespeare,” she repeated, continuing up the creaky wooden steps. “Come on and I’ll introduce you.”

“O-kay.”

He dragged the word out in a doubtful tone, and she allowed herself a little smile. It was nice to know she could knock him off balance the way he’d done to her. After her disastrous last relationship, being on even footing with Nick made her feel more confident than she had in months.

The large room mirrored the one downstairs with one exception: it was almost completely unfurnished. The only things she had up here were a few pieces of furniture and the built-in bookshelves full of treasures from all around the world. Ignoring Nick’s shocked look, she strolled to a wooden rod that stretched the width of the generous bay window overlooking Main Street.

Perched there was an enormous blue-and-yellow macaw who eyed her with what could only be described as fondness. Bobbing his head, he croaked, “Good morn to you, milady.”

“And to you, sir.”

“Oh, man,” Nick muttered from a safe distance. “Does that parrot have an English accent?”

“Actually, he’s a macaw with a Welsh accent.” Julia pushed up the sleeve of her sweater, and the bird stepped elegantly onto her arm. “He’s from Cardiff.”

The stately bird focused intelligent black eyes on Nick and bobbed his head again. “Greetings to you, sir.”

“Back at ya.”

Grinning, Nick joined them by the window. When he picked up a piece of dried fruit and offered it to Shakespeare, the bird replied with something between a cluck and a whistle. “Many thanks.”

While he munched his treat, Nick ran a fingertip over a brightly colored wing. “How’d you end up with this charmer?”

“My friend Liam is abroad on a six-month assignment and couldn’t take Shakespeare with him. We’ve always gotten along well, so he’s staying with me. It’s been fun, hasn’t it?” She tickled under his chin, and the bird winked at her.

“Ah, Julia, shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” he cooed, affectionately rubbing his long comb of feathers against her hand.

That got Nick’s attention, and he gave her a knowing look. “Good ol’ Liam taught him to say that, didn’t he?”

“Well, yes,” she stammered, feeling herself growing pink again.

“And he left his bard-quoting buddy with you so you wouldn’t forget about him while he’s away.”

“I suppose.”

“And eventually, you’ll have to get together so you can give him his bird back,” Nick continued in the cynical, hard-edged tone she’d heard too often from him. “Clever.”

Say something, she scolded herself. Tell him he’s got it all wrong.

Carefully setting Shakespeare back on his perch, she began, “It’s not like that at all.”

“So you don’t love him back?”

“Of course not. We’re friends, and I’m pet sitting—simple as that.”

Stepping closer, Nick fixed her with an unreadable look. “In my experience, nothing between a man and a woman is ever simple.”

Ordinarily, she wouldn’t engage a near-stranger in a debate over personal relationships. But for this man, with his cool demeanor and jaded attitude, she decided to make an exception.

Facing him squarely, she returned his glare with one of her own. “I have no doubt you’re very good at seeing the worst in people. It probably serves you well in your line of work but I have news for you. I’m not like most people you’ve met, and your cynic’s routine won’t work on me.”

“Is that right?” He didn’t come any closer, but even from a distance, it was obvious she had his full attention. “What makes you so different?”

Refusing to back away even a single inch, she held out her arms. “All this makes me different. If you really want to know more about me, take a look at what I’ve chosen to surround myself with.”

His eyes held hers, and she got the distinct impression he was trying to read her. Too bad for him, since she’d learned long ago to mask her true feelings with a cloak of impeccable manners. When he finally spoke, his voice was hardly above a murmur.

“Where is everything?”

Jolted by the bizarre question, she fought the urge to avert her gaze and back away. The tone in his voice sounded almost sympathetic, as if he’d somehow discovered the secret she’d been keeping for nearly a year. Accustomed to intrusive queries, fending them off had become second nature to her. But now she found herself at a complete loss for words.

What on earth was wrong with her?

“What do you mean?” she demanded, firming her chin with determination. “I’m not sure what you were expecting, but this is all I have.”

Shaking his head, he said, “All you still have. What happened to the rest?”

“I sold some of my collection to start my business.”

Folding his arms, he pinned her with a knowing look. “You expect me to believe you never owned full-size versions of all those pieces of doll house luxury you’ve got in miniature downstairs?”

Julia opened her mouth to object but quickly realized any protest she might offer would be a blatant lie. The trouble was, she knew the truth would be fodder for the serialized version of her life story he wanted to write. So she chose her words carefully. “I had some financial problems.”

“Which is why you dropped out of sight.” When she nodded, he prodded, “You don’t strike me as the type to gamble or waste money. What did you fall into?”

“Love.” Hoping to escape the laser focus of those dark, intelligent eyes, she busied herself filling Shakespeare’s water bottle. “In a nutshell, Bernard wasn’t the man I thought he was. By the time I figured out what was going on, he’d used what he knew about me to steal my identity. And most of my money,” she added with a grimace.