Keeping Christmas

by Rebecca Blevins

  He folded his arms and cocked his head. "Why, yes, I do." His eyes twinkled. "What do you have in mind?"

  "You get the ingredients. I'll mix us up some biscuits."

  Wes happily obliged, and soon Paige slid a small batch of biscuits into the oven. When she closed the door and turned around, she found Wes leaning against the counter, watching her. "Well," he said, "looks like we have ten minutes."

  Her heart sped up. Her confusion must have registered on her face because he arched his brow and said, “Do you want to start eating? Because I’m tempted to gnaw on my arm."

  Paige giggled. She couldn’t help it; she was so relieved. Probably just a little jumpy after Michael.

  They ate their stew in record time, even though they burned their mouths and drank at least two glasses of cold water each. When the timer went off, Paige looked around for a hot pad or towel to take out the biscuits. Wes handed her one.

  After she set them on the stovetop, she turned to Wes. “Get ready for the best biscuits you’ve ever had.”

  “I’ll take you up on that,” Wes said. He took a bite, then promptly grabbed three more, set them on the table, and filled his bowl with stew for the second time. “What?” he said when he saw Paige staring. “You didn’t want any of these, did you?”

  She playfully swatted him, and they ate stew and biscuits until Paige was certain she’d explode.

  After they were done, Wes checked his watch. "You need to head home soon, don't you?"

  Paige figured she should come clean. "Actually, I don't absolutely have to be there. She has a few other girls she could call, but she's used to me jumping at every opportunity. Let me text her. It's been quite a week, and I'd rather not have to hurry to make it.”

  After she texted Gretchen, they made some hot cocoa, then Wes encouraged Paige to talk about her life as they washed the dishes. One thing led to another, and soon they were trying to out-pun each other, laughing so much, Paige’s stomach hurt.

  All too soon, there was nothing else to do besides leave. Wes must have recognized the change in the air because he caught her hand. "Paige . . . I, well, I don't know what I'm saying or how to say this. But I really, really want to see you again."

  She did too. But she'd already been foolish when it had come to Michael. She still smarted from the stupidity of that decision. Wes seemed different from Michael—or really, any other guy she'd liked—but how could she be sure she wasn't starting to fall for someone who was all wrong for her again?

  Her pause took a little too long, and he dropped her hand. "I understand. Believe me, I do. Life is complicated, and I know you’re probably already dating someone."

  "No, no, Wes. It's not that. Definitely not that. It's just that—and this probably sounds stupid—I don’t know what to expect from dating anymore." Goodness. There it was. Oh, well, she'd scare him off shortly, then she’d be on her way.

  "Here, let's sit for a minute." They settled on stools across from each other at the counter. "Go on."

  He watched her intently, and she struggled to find the right words. "Wes, I know you've been through a really hard year. And while I do like you, I’m not sure what you're saying when you tell me you want to see me again. I need you to be up front with me, because to be honest? Trying to guess what a guy wants is exhausting."

  Wes reacted in a way Paige never expected.

  He laughed.

  Was she really that hilarious? She didn’t think so.

  "Oh, Paige. You know what I want from you?" He reached for her hands, and she didn’t pull away.

  "I have no idea.”

  "I want to get to know you. On your terms. I can see you've had a rough go of it. I’m guessing that your date back home didn’t go so well?"

  Her cheeks flamed. "It was more reconnecting with an old high school crush. And as those things tend to go, it didn't end well. I should've seen that coming."

  Wes leaned forward in earnest, his deep blue gaze holding hers effortlessly. "I'll tell you what. If you want to stay and watch a movie with me, I promise I won't try anything. I'd rather get to know you—the real you—because I find you fascinating and smart, and frankly, pretty awesome.”

  Not only was he saying all the right things, but she could listen to his voice all day. It did funny things to her middle. She was all too aware of the warmth of his hands gently holding hers.

  He continued. "I'll be completely straight with you. I got into my last relationship far too quickly than was good for me, and it’s only been recently that I’ve gotten completely over it. And if you're okay with that, Paige Sorensen, please stay for a while. If you need to think about it, that's fine. But I have a copy of The Italian Job that’s begging to be watched, and if you're game, I'd love to pop some popcorn and share it with you."

  Paige could hardly believe her ears. Was this an angle? Could he be for real? She didn't have any weird feelings about staying—actually, she wanted to.

  So they ended up on the couch, the snow gently falling in the dimming light outside, eating popcorn and watching the movie. They held hands, and after a while, Wes put his arm around her, gave her a little smile, and she snuggled in at his side. She'd never been more comfortable with anyone other than her family. It was an odd feeling, but a very welcome one. She just didn't know if she could trust her feelings. But she’d worry about that later.

  Wes smiled at the sleeping angel leaning against his shoulder. As fast as he'd gotten to know this girl, he knew Paige was nothing like Katherine had been—and that was a good thing for both of them. As the credits rolled, the music woke her, and she sat up straight, disoriented. Man, she was beautiful. And it wasn't only her looks, though he'd noticed those from the start. She had something special about her. Yeah, he'd love to kiss her, but he wasn’t about to try until he knew she wanted him to.

  "What time is it?" she asked wearily. He checked his phone. "Nine o'clock. You've been out for a while."

  "Oh, no! I'm so sorry. I guess all that wood hauling wore me out more than I thought." She stood, rather wobbly, and it was all he could do not to tug her back down into his arms. He followed her to the kitchen, where she gathered her keys and purse and came to stand in front of him, face still slightly flushed from sleep.

  Would he ever see her again? He'd meant every word he'd said. He also was terrified that he'd started falling for this girl so hard and fast, but it had happened, and he couldn't imagine her walking out of his life forever.

  "Wes?" Paige tilted her chin up, looking at him full in the eyes.

  "Yes?" Why was he nervous all of a sudden?

  "Thank you." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently on the cheek, then stepped back. "I hate to, but I'd better go. I have a lot to think about."

  So did he. "Let me drive you to the highway." She put her coat and boots on, and they drove to the main road. He opened the door to let her out, then walked her to her car and stood there as she unlocked it, slipped inside, and started it. He was half hoping that being in the ditch had damaged something so she couldn't go, but no, the engine purred.

  "I guess this is it," she said with a hint of sadness.

  "I guess so. I'll talk to you soon?" he said. She nodded, and he leaned into the car and said, "Paige, I will respect whatever decision you make. But I have to tell you that I hope we'll cross paths again."

  He shut her door, and she smiled a sad smile, then turned on her headlights and sped off down the highway. He was half tempted to pull her over, as she was going too fast, but restrained himself. He was falling hard for this girl. Faster than he’d wanted to, but he’d never felt like this before. He had to believe that if they were meant to be together, she’d be back.

  He had to trust that.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sunday, December 27th

  Late the next morning, Paige woke up with a sense of purpose. It was almost as if a good night's sleep in her own bed had let her brain process and sort out last week’s events. She wasn’t sure what to do about Wes y
et, so she decided to work on her business plan and think about him later.

  Her arms were really sore after all yesterday’s wood carrying, and putting a hat and coat was painful. She went downstairs and across the street to the nearest pastry shop. Soon, Paige was armed with packets of gourmet hot cocoa and some blueberry muffins. Hey, it was still her holiday week, so she could eat whatever she felt like. And today, she felt like muffins. And though she should probably like homemade hot cocoa, being a chef and all, good packaged cocoa was one of her vices. Her old culinary school instructor would have had a heart attack if he’d known.

  Back home, she made a cup of hot chocolate and then sat at her table with her laptop and a muffin. Excitement rose as she researched the ways she could develop her own business. She'd looked before, but she didn't have enough money to start even a tiny business. With the amount her oldeforeldre left her, she had a few options.

  Paige spent the rest of the morning going over numbers and writing out a few plausible business plans. Then she took a long bath, soaking in all the possibilities. None of them would bring her much to start with, but she could see the growth potential in all of them.

  "All right," Paige said out loud. "Time to put this plan into motion." She picked up the phone and called Gretchen, who'd been encouraging Paige to start her own side business for a while. Of course, it helped that Paige’s grandfather and Gretchen had known each other for many years.

  Gretchen was supportive, and even had a few ideas to help Paige get started. After they finished their conversation, Paige took a long hot shower.

  She finally let herself think of Wes. Could she focus on developing any sort of relationship with him if she was going to try to figure out her business prospects? Was that a smart move? Her brain whispered that it wasn't, but she allowed herself the luxury of daydreaming about him anyway. His kindness, his warmth—she ached to be around him again. But right now, could she afford to be distracted?

  Problem was, Wes could easily be so much more than a fling. Though Paige was serious about starting a business, she also wanted someone to share her life with. She compromised with herself and decided to wait and see if Wes contacted her first, no matter how her fingers itched to text him.

  Even if her heart protested at that decision.

  Wes sat at his usual table, a little out of sorts. He wanted to say it was because the Hole was too noisy, but he was honest enough to admit that his grumpiness could be chalked up to missing Paige.

  Rachel delivered his lunch—a BLT, heavy on the T. "So, I guess you missed me?" Rachel asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  "Sure did! The only good thing I ate was that beef stew you taught me to make."

  Rachel beamed. He noticed—and not for the first time—how pretty she was. There was a time, a while back, when he'd considered dating her, before Katherine came along.

  But he and Rachel would never have worked. He cared about her a good deal, but something inside his heart had spoken quietly and said that Rachel was not for him, and that had made sense.

  "So," she said, "do you have any stew left? Want to share later on and catch up?"

  He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Rach, but I had a visitor over the weekend, and we ate most of it. Paige Sorensen stopped by with a little present for Tristan Allan.”

  Rachel frowned. "I'm sorry I missed her.” She took the rag she held and rubbed at an imaginary spot on the table.

  "She came by here first, but you were gone. Of course, Russ had no idea who she was talking about when she asked about Tristan."

  "I would've loved to have seen her." Rachel added offhandedly, "Do you think she'll be visiting again?"

  Wes had been thinking a little about a project that would both help Paige and ensure he'd see her soon. "Well, funny you should mention that. With all our scrambling for the Christmas dinner, planning for the Snow Ball has kind of gone out the window. I was thinking that with the money we have in the budget, we could see if Paige would cater it for us."

  Rachel sat across from him. "Catering costs a lot, though. And the Snow Ball is on Thursday. That's not much notice."

  "I know, but I'm not talking about hiring the company she works for. I'm thinking maybe she might want to do it. When we were making Christmas dinner, she talked about her dreams of running her own food business. If she’d cater the ball, we could focus on the decorating. Since you're drafted into the committee and all." He tapped his fingers on the table, hoping Rachel would agree. He didn’t want to figure out the decorating by himself.

  "Well," Rachel began slowly, "it sounds like a good idea. If you can get her. She's probably working then. It would be one of the busiest days of the year for catering."

  He hadn't thought of that. "I guess we'll see."

  “Well, I need to get back to work.” She stood up. "Maybe we can go through the decoration storage at the courthouse after I finish here. I need to get back to the kitchen. But if she does come and needs a place to stay, she's welcome here. Free of charge. Just tell her it's a perk if she accepts the job."

  "Thanks, Rach. You have no idea how fantastic you are. Call me when you're done. I'm going to talk to Mayor Sloan about this and okay the idea through him."

  He stood up and gave her a hug, which she returned, tighter than he'd expected. "Anything for you, Wes." She let go and turned away quickly, tossing over her shoulder, "I think something's burning in the kitchen."

  Wes didn't smell anything burning, but then again, he wasn't a real cook. What did he know?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Monday, December 28th

  Paige rushed to get to work Monday. She'd overslept, as she'd stayed up really late on Sunday night thinking about all her plans—and Wes. Gretchen had a brunch scheduled for a volunteer organization, then another party that evening. With the hustle and bustle of prepping mini cheesecakes for the party and mushroom-and-bacon quiche for the brunch, she hardly had time to breathe.

  Twice in the space of an hour, her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she didn't have time—or clean hands—to pull it out. The third time it buzzed, she'd just washed splashes of egg off her hands. "Anna! Pull those tarts out of the oven, will you?" she called out over the maze of people running around. At Anna's nod, Paige stepped outside. Thank goodness Gretchen had all hands on deck.

  Wes.

  Nerves and anticipation floated in her stomach, almost making her queasy. "Hi!" she answered.

  "Hello, Paige!" Her nerves faded at the sound of his voice. "How are you?"

  She leaned against the brick of the alleyway. "Crazy busy. We're prepping for a brunch and another big party tonight. I wish I could talk, but I only have a minute." She hoped he wasn't thinking she was putting him off because now that she'd actually heard his voice, her plan to try to forget about him was in serious danger.

  "I won't keep you. Hey, I’m sorry this is such short notice, but I have a proposal for you. Remember how you were telling me about your dream to go out on your own? With your business?"

  If he only knew how much she'd been thinking about that. "Yes?"

  "Well, this is entirely last minute, but we have the Snow Ball every New Year's Eve. It's just a small town gathering, and we usually spend our budget on frozen desserts that we warm up, grocery store cookies, that sort of thing. But this year, we were thinking that if you were interested, we'd turn the budget over to you and ask you to cater it for us. Now, there wouldn't be much pay, which is why we haven't hired a caterer for this before. But we try to make it a fancy event, and it would be an opportunity for you to get your feet wet and experiment."

  Was he for real? When she thought about starting her own business, she had pictured trying super hard to get a gig. She wasn't even sure how she'd find one. And here was Wes, offering her the chance to practice the beginnings of her dream? Life had a strange sense of humor.

  "Paige, are you still there?"

  "Uh, yes. I am. I'm thinking." Gretchen did have a swanky event scheduled for Thursday night. But
they were paying top dollar, and it was a small, private event—only fifty people. Gretchen wanted a lot of Paige's specialties, so she'd be working hard on that all day, and because of that, Gretchen had already said she'd have others on the team handle the party itself. Paige would be worn out doing both, especially on short notice, but she could do it. "Wes, you know what? I'll take the job. I need to know what the budget is, how many people you're serving, if you have any requests, and what time the party starts. I'm assuming it's in the community center?"

  "That's great! Yes, the community center. Let me find those numbers. I have them here—just a sec."

  Anna poked her head out the door. "Gretchen is wondering where you are."

  Paige covered her phone with her hand. "Be right there." Anna nodded and went back in. "Wes? I have to go. We're swamped. How about you send me all the details. I'll look those over and call you back tonight. It might be kind of late, but with the event in two days, we need to get this going ASAP."

  "Call as late as you need to. I'm happy to help, no matter what time it is." She heard the smile in his voice, and she smiled too.

  They hung up, and Paige straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath to get back in the zone, then opened the door and stepped into the hot, frantic kitchen.

  Paige talked to Wes on Monday night, and they didn't get off the phone until two a.m. The details of the ball didn’t take long to work out, but between all those details, there was a lot of laughing and sharing. She tried to tell herself that the same thing had happened in her phone conversations with Michael, but she couldn't deny that talking to Wes felt different. Deeper, more connected somehow. Like there was the regular world, then the world she and Wes created with their conversations.

  The time passed in a whirlwind. Paige usually didn't care much for coffee, but she drank copious amounts of that and diet soda for the energy to accomplish everything. She called Wes Tuesday afternoon for a quick question, and that turned into an hour-long discussion which only ended because he was on patrol and had to pull over someone else for speeding. "So," she asked him, "does that mean you found a new minion to help me out tomorrow?"