by Anthology
“As do I, Ms. Klein,” he answered with suppressed amusement and a very quick glance at my chest. Looking down I saw that my tirade and loosened my robe and I was inadvertently demonstrating the jiggle concept. I pulled my robe together tightly and if this had been a cartoon, steam would have shot out of my ears. “Say there was a jiggle,” he went on, “maybe the jiggler heard something and thought that you were burglar.”
“Then why not stick around after I called out to identify myself? For that matter, assuming it wasn’t you, where did they go so quickly?”
“You have my word, that it was not me. Under other circumstances, I would argue that this vanishing act you describe is just further evidence that nobody was trying to get in, but that bookcase falling for no reason is, admittedly, suspicious.”
That appeased me a bit and I sat back down on the sofa next to him.
“Isn’t it possible that someone caught wind of the fact the tenant in this apartment had died and decided to see if there was anything valuable… ”
“Anything is possible, but it seems like a pretty big chance to take with other tenants living so close by. Unless they were after something in particular.”
“They were after the trial papers,” I broke in eagerly, leaning even closer to him. He really did have the most amazing brown eyes by the way.
“The trial papers?” he echoed, sounding very distracted.
“The ones she mentioned in the letter,” I reminded him. “Maybe she was a witness to something once. She’s led a pretty adventurous life.”
“Why would anyone be that eager to find some trial transcripts? Many are public record already.”
“Who knows? She capitalized The Trial, so maybe it was a really important one, you know historical.”
“Yeah, maybe old Mrs. Mallowan kidnapped the Lindbergh baby,” he teased and I gave him the side eyes, which seemed to amuse him greatly.
“Will you be serious, please? I have permission to look through Jane’s things, I think we should search for some trial papers.”
“Ms.… Ali… if someone really broke into this apartment, the last thing we want to do is contaminate the crime scene by touching everything in sight. In the morning I’ll help you to file a police report.”
“And it will sit in drawer while nobody does anything to protect the papers or avenge Jane’s death?”
“Protect… ?” He looked at me like he thought I was nuts. “You don’t even know that there are any papers! And as for avenging… who’s your target, Genghis Khan, the Grim Reaper? She was an old woman! Old women die every day.”
“Well, they don’t write letters anticipating their deaths!”
“Yes, they do; they’re called wills!” We were both on our feet now standing toe-to-toe. I had my hands planted firmly on my hips and I stared up at his really incredibly cute face, unflinchingly. He stared back down at me with a look that fluctuated between frustration, amusement, and desire.
“She did leave a will. But this was separate.” My voice was no longer high pitched and angry, but low and throaty.
“You really are a very passionate person,” he said thickly. “And you’re also disconcertingly adorable. I think you’re dangerous Ms. Klein.”
“Ali,” I reminded him, “and I was just thinking the same thing about you, Kevin.”
His eyes dropped to my lips, which parted in anticipation as he lowered his head to kiss me. Our mouths had just barely touched when a bloodcurdling shriek echoed through the building, and we jumped apart quickly.
“Mrs. Wong and Mrs. Wright,” I said feeling panicky.
“I’ll go check on them. You stay here,” he instructed.
“Are you nuts? I’m not staying here alone. What if the jiggler shows up again?”
“Fine, but stay behind me.”
When we arrived down on my floor again, Mrs. Wright was squawking and gesturing like a wounded goose. Mrs. Wong was saying comforting things but the look on her face was hardly nurturing.
“Are you two okay?” I asked. “Why did you scream?”
“Someone was trying to break into my apartment,” Mrs. Wright said, sounding quite affronted. “The doorknob was turning!”
“The jiggler!” I exclaimed.
“Okay, let’s just stay calm here,” Kevin said in what I imagined must be his prosecutor voice. “Other than the four of us, the only person in building is Mr. Smith on the first floor. It must have been him.
“It wasn’t me,” came a voice from the stairs. Mr. Smith made it to our floor. He was dressed in a flannel robe that looked a whole lot like mine, and I made a mental note to buy a robe that wouldn’t look better on an old man.
At that point I saw Mrs. Wright turn to Mrs. Wong with a cold stare. “You were going to sneak in and look for them, weren’t you?”
“I should have them. They were mine to begin with!” Mrs. Wong retorted.
“Well you shouldn’t have bet them on a lousy pair of Queens! I won them fair and square. And you knew that I didn’t have them anymore.” She gave Mr. Smith a scathing look.
“My dear lady, nobody forced you to drink all of that Sherry and throw them in the pot.”
“A gentleman would not have taken advantage of a lady being out-of-sorts.”
“Out-of-sorts.” Mrs. Wong snorted. “More like plastered.”
“I won them honestly,” he said, puffing up his chest.
“And lost them honestly to Jane!” Mrs. Wright shot back with a sneer.
“But I was the previous owner,” he pointed out. “So when she passed… ”
“Why would you have thought that I had them?” Wright asked Wong.
“Because you’re the sort of person who would have managed to get her hands on them somehow,” Mrs. Wong replied tartly.
“Enough everyone!” Kevin broke in. “Let’s go and sit down and you can all explain what you’re talking about.” I opened up my apartment door and they shuffled in grumbling to themselves.
Chapter Five
We soon had the answers we were seeking. It turned out that when her husband, a former judge, had died, Mrs. Wong inherited some letters written by the famous Supreme Court Justice, Oliver Wendell Holmes.
One night, at their weekly poker game, having extended her credit as far as she could, she threw the letters into the pot, and duly lost them to Mrs. Wright. The following week, Mrs. Wright had gotten a bit deep into her cups and tossed them back into the pot, whereupon Mr. Smith won them. He, in turn, feeling cocky one night, had bet them and lost them to Jane. Jane, being by far the smartest and most sensible of the four, held onto them.
“So she must have still had them,” I noted. “Was it you who was trying to get into her apartment when I was there?” I asked Mr. Smith.
“I was just going to look around,” he admitted. “I really do believe that since I was the last owner before her they should go back to me,” he added grumpily.
“I say since they were originally mine, they should go to me,” Mrs. Wong said.
“I feel that I was taken advantage of,” Mrs. Wright argued. “So they should rightfully be mine.”
“I’m afraid the courts would disagree with all of you,” Kevin pointed out. “It sounds like Ms. Mallowan was arguably the legal owner, and she left them to Ali here.”
“The question is, where are they? I didn’t see anything like that among her correspondence,” I explained.
“Ahem,” Mrs. Wright cleared her throat. “I must admit that after you left, Ms. Klein, I may have visited Jane’s apartment.”
“Through a locked door?” I asked coldly.
“Oh it wasn’t locked,” she said innocently. I knew she was lying, of course, but it wasn’t worth arguing with her. “I read the letter that she left you and figured out where the papers might be.”
“See! What did I tell you?” Mrs. Wong said triumphantly. “She is the type of person who would manage to get her hands on them somehow.”
“Jane was quite fond of her book coll
ection… “ Mrs. Wright continued. A light bulb went on in my head.
“That’s why she capitalized it. She meant the book, The Trial by Kafka.”
“Unfortunately, it was on the top shelf… ”
“And you knocked over the bookcase trying to get to it,” Kevin finished.
“How did you vanish without me seeing you?” I asked.
“My dear, there are always servants’ stairways in these old homes and this one is no exception. There’s one tucked away at the back of one of the hall closets. I just went down that way.”
“And that’s how you vanished too after your jiggling,” I said to Mr. Smith, who was looking rather sulky. “So, let’s see if they’re still there,” I suggested.
We all trooped upstairs, and between us, managed to push the fallen bookcase aside and find a copy of Kafka’s The Trial. Sure enough, the papers were there. When the senior citizens had all skulked back to their own places in defeat, Kevin and I went through the historical documents together.
“These are amazing,” I said, fascinated.
“I agree,” he replied. “But I’ve found lately, that there are a lot of hidden treasures in this building.” Something in the tone of his voice made me look up. And this time, nobody interrupted when he kissed me. Somehow, I suspected Jane was looking on with joy. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had planned it.
Author’s Note - Bryce Adler
If you enjoyed Once Upon a Midnight Snowy, look for more Laughter Love & Larceny Tales from Bryce Adler in the future.
If you like a little spice with your laughter, be sure to check out her alter-ego, N.M. Silber’s Lawyers in Love series, available on Amazon.com: Lawyers in Love (N.M. Silber) on Amazon
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Warm Winter Kisses
Juliet Spenser
Best friends forge a deeper connection during a winter storm.
DESCRIPTION: Bed and breakfast manager Hannah Jacobs loves her new life in Bliss Harbor. That is, until she does a colossally stupid thing: falls in love with her best friend, Liam O’Callaghan. She’s determined to avoid the hunky detective and her feelings for him, but when a blizzard strands them alone together, there’s no avoiding the heat between them.
GENRE: Small town contemporary romance. 10,500 words or approximately 42 pages. This is a standalone short story with a happy ending, set in Juliet Spenser’s Bliss Harbor series. You don’t need to read Juliet’s other Bliss Harbor romances to enjoy this story, but she hopes you’ll have such a blast, you’ll want to read more in her world!
HEAT LEVEL: Sensual
Turn the page to begin reading Warm Winter Kisses by Juliet Spenser, or click here to return to this anthology’s Table of Contents.
Warm Winter Kisses
Juliet Spenser
Chapter One
If there was one thing that Hannah Jacobs learned in the three short years since she’d moved to Bliss Harbor to be close to her sister, it’s that winter in these parts resembled a 6‘5 rugby hooligan with missing front teeth, a body full of scars, and bloodlust in his heart.
And he was always coming to kick their ass.
Or at least that’s how it felt when a massive blizzard was bearing down on the quaint harbor town in northern New York a week after the last pummeling. Though Hannah enjoyed her live-in job managing Callie’s Bed & Breakfast, she’d enjoy it a lot more without the sub-zero winter temperatures.
And icy front porch steps.
Looking at her swollen ankle propped on a couch pillow in front of her, Hannah would be the first to admit that after slipping on those steps, she was already out for the count on this round with Mother Nature.
Ha! More like Mother Fu—
The backdoor of the sprawling bed and breakfast banged open, interrupting Hannah’s internal grumbling. A moment later, Callie’s snow-covered chef, Winnie Porter, lurched into the family room, struggling with the load of firewood in her arms. She almost made it to the firewood rack before losing her grip, sending the logs crashing to the floor.
“Let me help.” Hannah swung her legs down and moved to get up.
Panting, Winnie said, “No, don’t get up. You need to keep your ankle elevated. Just give me a minute to catch my breath. Or fall over. I haven’t decided yet.”
Hannah smiled. “Well until you do, why don’t you dry off as best you can?” She tossed Winnie a towel from the pile she’d hobbled up to get from the linen closet while Winnie had been making her first trip to the shed for wood. Hopefully they wouldn’t need the wood—they had a backup generator after all—but the first thing anyone learned in a winter in these parts was that it was definitely better safe and warm than sorry.
“Thanks, though I think drying off is a losing battle at this point. The snowfall is starting to pick up. And it’s heavy, wet snow just in case we weren’t sure if the weather gods hated us or not.” Winnie stripped off her outer layers of clothing and ran the towel over her hair.
“Remind me again why we don’t pack up and join Emily down south,” Hannah said. Emily O’Callaghan was the owner of Callie’s, and she was obviously the only sane resident of this town because she left Bliss Harbor in October to spend her winters far, far away on a sunny beach in Florida and she didn’t come back to Bliss until April.
Winnie grinned. “Because then there would be nobody left to run this place, and you never know, we may actually have a guest this month.”
Hannah snorted. They hadn’t had a guest since Christmas. January was by far the slowest month of the year for the B&B. In fact, like most businesses in the touristy Bliss Harbor, Callie’s made 70% of its revenue from May to September. The workload reflected that, too. Hannah barely had time to breathe during the summer months when the B&B was always full and sold out weeks, if not months, in advance. But the winters were usually long and slow, and during weeks like this, Hannah felt her major duty was to keep the place warm enough so the pipes wouldn’t freeze.
It’s a good thing I got that Ivy League Masters degree in Hospitality Management…
Actually, despite any complaining about the weather, Hannah wouldn’t trade this job for anything, and definitely not for anything close to her old life on the management fast track at a posh, five star hotel in Washington, DC.
While she’d moved to Bliss Harbor to be close to her only remaining family, something about this town had ended up soothing the cracks and raw spots in her soul from her failed marriage and a career path that had left her burnt out and empty. Callie’s had been her refuge while she healed, Emily became like a mother to Hannah, and Hannah finally had time to develop friendships with people like Winnie.
And Liam.
Liam O’Callaghan was Emily’s nephew, one of Hannah’s best friends, and the one person Hannah would do anything to avoid these days.
That’s what happened when a person was silly enough to fall in love with her best friend.
Pushing all thoughts of Liam out of her head, Hannah said, “Hopefully we won’t need to use the wood, but thanks again for coming over and helping me prepare for the storm, Winnie. I couldn’t ask my sister what with her newborn and all, and you”—weren’t Liam—“were my best bet.” Hannah coughed, hoping Winnie hadn’t noticed that short pause.
Winnie gave Hannah a knowing look, like she guessed what Hannah hadn’t said, but then she waved a hand in the air. “No problem. You’d do the same for me.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to head home before the worst of it hits and you get stuck here?”
“And leave you all alone for who knows how long to hobble around and fend for yourself until we dig ourselves out?” Winnie rolled her eyes. “Then I’d be frien
d of the year for sure. Not.”
“You are friend of the year for this. I’m still sorry, though. I should have been more careful walking down those steps.”
“Really, don’t worry about it. Just next time, my advice would be to start at the top of the porch steps with the salt and not try and walk down them first.” Winnie gave Hannah’s ankle a look of sympathy. “And hey, at least you had two feet of snow pack to cushion your fall.”
“Oh yes, what joy. Silver linings abound in this frozen tundra.”
Winnie laughed, and stacked the last pieces of firewood. “True. But Bliss Harbor does have some perks—like the most divine bakery I’ve been to, ever. And it’s like this town grows men hot and rugged.” Winnie waggled her eyebrows at Hannah. “Like a certain sexy homicide detective who is always hanging around you.”
Hannah felt her cheeks heat. “Liam and I are just friends.”
“Is that the story you’re going with?” Winnie plopped down on the couch next to Hannah’s propped up foot. “You know, there was a time when Brian and I were just friends.” Winnie made air quotes on that last part.
“I thought he was actually your brother’s friend.” Hannah smiled, thinking about how nice it must be to be as crazy about someone as Winnie and Brian were about each other.
“He was. He is—he and Jack are super close, and because of that, Brian’s always been a part of my life. But at some point things changed and he became my friend too. And that’s all we were for a while.” Winnie paused, a soft smile on her face. “In fact, only a day before Brian started making bedroom eyes at me, I introduced him to someone as my really good friend.”
“Seriously?” Hannah tried to picture Winnie and Brian as just friends, but couldn’t.
“Oh yeah. I was pretty blind about the whole thing.”
“So what happened next?” Hannah had heard the end of the story of how Winnie and Brian had gotten together, but now she realized she’d never heard the beginning, or how they’d made that initial transition from just friends to lovers.
Not that Hannah was looking for any lessons to apply in her own life or anything.