by JoAnn Ross
Even as she told herself that she wasn’t going to do anything special because Clint was in town, Ava took extra pains with her makeup as she got ready for her day. And although she usually pulled her hair into a ponytail, today she curled it into what her cute little clerk Ronnie would call beachy waves and then fluffed it around her shoulders. Since Ava often got hands-on with the toy displays she normally dressed in jeans and a casual button-down oxfords with her logo stitched above the pocket but today she opted for a festive red sweater with pearls, sewn into the neckline. She added a green silk scarf and knotted it halfway down her chest. After taking a step back to look at her reflection she told herself she was simply celebrating the season but she knew darned well why she was dressing up. But when the image of sexy Clint in his leather jacket and jeans filtered into her head she was hit with a flash of insecurity. Sadly ironic, since Clint had been responsible for making her, an outdoorsy farm girl, feel beautiful. It didn’t help knowing that he’d been living in LA on a college campus where all the women must be gorgeous. But then Ava fisted her hands on her hips and glared at herself in the mirror. Wasn’t she the one who stocked uplifting books on self-esteem and acceptance in the book nook corner of the toy store? Didn’t she always make sure that each and every girl felt like a princess at her Saturday tea parties? She was about to give herself an extended and much needed pep talk when her cell phone started ringing. Of course she never had the doggone thing next to her when it rang and had to hustle back into the kitchen and locate it.
When she saw that the screen said Grammar’s Bakery, Ava answered. “Hello.”
“Hey there, Ava, it’s Mabel at the bakery.”
“Oh, hi, Mabel. Are my cookies ready?”
“Yes, they sure are, sugar. I’ll have them delivered.”
“Oh, Mabel, I know you’re swamped. I’ll have Ronnie come over later and pick them up. I’m not going to put the cookies out until the Christmas walk open house or they will be long gone.”
“Are you always such a sweetie?” Mabel said. “But listen.” She lowered her voice to an excited whisper that had Ava’s heart beating a little faster. Ava actually held her breath so she could listen more closely. “That’s not the only reason I called.”
“What’s up?” Ava asked, even though she already had an inkling of where this was going.
“Guess who just stopped in here,” Mabel continued in a low voice, but she didn’t wait for Ava to answer. “Clint.” She paused and then said in a lower tone, “Sully! Clint Sully,” she then said together so that there would be no confusion.
“You don’t say,” Ava commented calmly.
“I’m not playin’! He said in all of LA there wasn’t a bakery as good as mine,” Mabel boasted and then lowered her voice again. “He’s single, Ava. I know ’cause I asked.”
“You asked?”
Mabel chuckled. “Hey, eligible bachelors in this little town are hard to find.”
Ava grinned. “Are you going to make a play for Clint?”
“Oh, I wish! Sugar, when he walked in, my brain went straight to you. Although I did admire how he filled out those jeans.”
“Miss Mabel . . .”
“He’s looking pretty doggone fly, I might add.”
“Fly?”
“Hey, my employees are mostly teenagers. They rub off on me. Mercy me, but I remember how cute of a couple you two made back in high school.”
“That was a long time ago,” Ava reminded her.
“Child, seems like yesterday to me,” Mabel said with a sigh.
A hot lump of emotion gathered in Ava’s throat.
“Anyway, there’s no need to send Ronnie over.”
“But—”
“When Clint saw your name written on the box of cookies sitting on the counter, he offered to deliver them to you.”
Ava’s eyes rounded and she stood up straighter. “Is he on his way?”
“Just finishing up his coffee and a second powdered-sugar doughnut. I’m so glad that I added that café section in the bakery. He’ll be over shortly, though, I imagine. Thought I’d give you fair warning. Hope I didn’t do the wrong thing,” Mabel added, but she didn’t seem at all concerned.
“No, of course not,” Ava assured her even though her heart continued to race. Matchmaking was a common practice in Cricket Creek. Ava supposed it was because in a small town everybody knew everybody. And Mabel was right. Eligible bachelors were a hot commodity in town, especially those over thirty.
“Well, I’ve got to get back to work. I love the Christmas season, but I’m already plumb tuckered out and it’s just started. Oh, would you just listen to me whine? It wasn’t too long ago that I wondered how I was going to keep the doors open and now I’ve expanded. I should count my blessings. Bye now, sugar.”
“Bye, Miss Mabel,” Ava said absently. After ending the call, she stood there for a second and then was suddenly galvanized into action. When she ran back into the bathroom to check her hair, Rosie seemed to know something was up and scampered after her as if she could somehow help. “Dear Lord but I’m hot and I don’t mean in a sexy way. I’m sweating! Why did I put this sweater on?” She looked at Rosie, who gave her another humans-are-wacky look. “And I think this hair is . . . eighties big.” She plucked at the sweater and then did an armpit check. “Oh, I am sweating!”
In a true panic, she yanked the sweater over her head but forgot about the scarf and somehow, someway, the entire thing became tangled around her shoulders with her arms stretched upward. “What the . . . ?” Ava tugged, nearly turning the slipknot on the scarf into a noose. The small tag on the scarf must have gotten snagged in the pearls.
“Grrr . . .” Ava tugged harder and suddenly found herself in a Houdini-type situation. This had happened to her once in a dressing room. She had found herself in a similar situation when she tried a dress on that had been two sizes too small and had to enlist the help of a clerk after she managed to zip it up but not down. But there wasn’t a clerk here, only Rosie, who wasn’t going to be any assistance. Ava wiggled wildly and at least managed to get the edge of the sweater down far enough to see. She looked into the mirror and decided that she looked like a red version of SpongeBob SquarePants.
Ava gave the sweater one last big tug. What was snagged popped loose, and it sailed over her head so fast that she stumbled backward while the sweater went flying. Rosie thought it was a chase the sweater game, and she went running to where it landed on the floor in her bedroom. “No, Rosie!” Ava went chasing after her. The sweater was a gift from her mother, and she didn’t want Rosie to ruin it.
“Stay!” Ava commanded as she chased after her little dog, almost catching up to her just as she reached the entrance into the kitchen. But then the doorbell rang.
To Rosie the doorbell meant visitors, and she went bounding toward the door with the sweater hanging from her jaw just as Ava went skittering after her into the kitchen. Knowing she was going to be in full view of the window, Ava tried to stop her forward progress, but in her sock feet, she went sliding across the ceramic tile floor as if on ice skates.
With mounting mortification, Ava realized that the dark hair and leather jacket belonged to Clint. He stood with his back to her, but when he turned and reached for the doorbell, his eyes widened. She wasn’t sure it was from the fact she was clad only in her bra and jeans or if he thought she was going to slam into the door. Luckily, she came to a stop just before the collision. She dipped down and retrieved her sweater from Rosie, who was at this point more interested in the visitor than her prize. Ava tugged it over her head, did a quick little smoothing action, and then stood up. With a flip of her beachy waves that now probably resembled a hurricane, she opened the back door. “Clint? Come in,” she said and stepped back for him to enter. “What brings you here?” She was going for casual, but the chase left her breathless . . . or maybe it was seeing him that made her breathless.
“You’ll have to give me a minute while I get the image of you in th
at pink lacy bra out of my head,” Clint said as he set the box he carried onto the table.
Ava felt a blush steal into her cheeks that were probably as pink as the bra. “Ready now?” she asked while Rosie begged for his attention.
“Nope. I do believe the image is in my brain to stay. Sorry. I’m a guy and you’re a beautiful woman. What can I say?” He gave her a slight shrug, and then before she could think of a reply, he knelt down to give Rosie some much-needed attention. But two words stuck in Ava’s brain: “beautiful” and “woman.” They weren’t kids anymore. This was a whole new ball game.
“Whoof!”
“You have a face only a mother could love,” Clint said with a chuckle. “You’re a Heinz 57, for sure.”
“He insulted you. Bite him,” Ava said, and Clint chuckled. They might be adults, but the connection that started when they were kids remained.
Rosie responded by rolling over to her back. “Oh, you want a belly rub? Well, here . . .”
Rosie made little mewling noises of ecstasy, causing Ava to shake her head. “You’ve got a friend for life now.”
Clint glanced up and gave Ava a smile that made her heart beat fast. “A good thing to have. I’ll take it.”
4
I’ll Be Home for Christmas
Much to Rosie’s sorrow, Clint stood up. “Your hair is pretty, Ava.” He didn’t really intend to voice his observation out loud. “I like that you’ve gone back to your natural color.”
“Much better without the fake spray snow.”
“That’s what that stuff was?” His eyes widened.
“I read the label, Clint. It clearly said it was nontoxic,” she replied in a defensive tone.
“So was the Kool-Aid that you used to dye your hair red for that Halloween party. You had pink hair for about a month.”
“Hey, pink hair is in style now. I was just ahead of my time.”
Clint laughed. “Your mom was so mad.”
“I had extra chores until the pink Kool-Aid came all the way out. I took three showers a day and got into even more trouble when I used up too much water from the cistern.” When she tipped her head to the side and laughed, Clint felt her guard slipping. Something in the air shifted, changed, taking them backward and yet forward at the same time.
“I brought the cookies from the bakery.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Clint took a step closer to her. “I know. It was an excuse to see you.”
“Clint, I—” she began, but when he saw protest in her eyes, he pulled her closer and kissed her. He felt her stiffen slightly, but when he cradled her head and deepened the kiss, he felt her relax and melt against his chest.
Clint ran the tip of his tongue over her full bottom lip, tasting, savoring, and teasing until he heard her soft moan asking for more. He threaded his fingers through her hair and kissed her again slowly, lingering until he finally pulled away to look into her eyes. He wanted to say something flirty, clever, but he was too blown away by his reaction, and emotion clogged his throat.
She swallowed, licked her bottom lip. “You kissed me,” she said softly. Clint got the impression she wanted to sound accusatory but she failed, sounding more like she felt a sense of wonder.
He tilted his head and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You kissed me back, Ava.”
“You took me by surprise.” She frowned slightly. “I . . . I . . . got caught up in the moment. Why did you do it?”
Clint rubbed the pad of his thumb over her chin. “Because I wanted to kiss you from the moment I saw you . . . even in that Mrs. Claus outfit.”
She glanced down, swallowed hard but then tilted her head up and looked him square in the eye. “No, Clint. I meant why did you leave Cricket Creek instead of coming back here to live?”
Oh, that was such a loaded question. Clint had answers and she deserved to know them, but they stuck in his throat.
Ava took a step back and came up against the sink. “Was it that easy for you? A clean break?”
“Ava . . .” he began, and she looked at him expectantly but he couldn’t go on.
“I guess it was.” She lifted her chin and shoved past him.
“Ava!” He gently grabbed her arm.
She shook him off, but when he failed to leave, she slowly turned around. “I waited, you know. Hoped . . .” she began but trailed off and shook her head.
“I’m so sorry.”
Ava looked at him for a long measuring moment and then shrugged. “We were young. And you had an offer you couldn’t refuse. I get that.” Ava’s voice shook, but when Rosie trotted over and sat down by her side, she seemed to somehow draw strength from the little dog and get her emotions under control. After a deep breath, she said, “But when you didn’t return, I went on with my life, Clint. And I’m doing well. It’s not fair for you to come back here and wreck it.”
“That’s not my intention.”
She blinked as if fighting back tears, and it clawed at his gut. “Then stay away, Clint. You had your chance with me.” Her tone wasn’t harsh or unkind but firm. “Please.”
“What if I want another chance with you, Ava?” He took a step closer.
Ava stood her ground but lifted her chin and looked him square in the eye. “You waited too long.”
Clint nodded solemnly and then shoved his fingers through his hair. “Okay. I understand how you must feel. But you don’t know everything. There’s more to this than meets the eye. Look, I know you have to get downstairs, but we need to get together. I want to explain some things.” He felt the door that had opened earlier about to slam in his face. He shouldn’t have given in to the moment and kissed her.
“You had fifteen years to do that, Clint. You could have looked me up when you came into town to visit your father. But you didn’t.”
“I know.” He nodded again. “I understand how you must feel, but I’d welcome the chance to get together and talk about it.”
At Ava’s stony silence, Clint turned and walked away. When he reached the doorway, he paused and turned around. “There’s still a spark between us, Ava. Don’t deny it.”
She swallowed but remained silent.
Clint shoved his fingers through his hair. It was all he could do not to drag her into his arms and kiss some sense into her, and judging by the rise and fall of her chest, she was feeling the same reaction. “I take that back. Not just a spark, Ava, but a damned flame.”
5
Christmastime
Ava watched Clint leave, fighting the urge to go chasing after him. “What is it about Clint that turns me to mush?” she grumbled. No one in their right mind would run after a man who left her without looking back. What reasons could he possibly have to never even make an attempt to contact her over the years? “Seriously?” When Ava fisted her hands and groaned up at the ceiling, Rosie whined. With a crooked smile, Ava knelt down and scratched her dog behind the ears. “It’s okay, girl. And thanks for having my back, well, until you rolled over and let him scratch your belly. But your heart was in the right place. I’m going to get you one of those gross pig ears that you love so much.”
After thinking about it, Ava opted to leave the sweater on in an effort to remind herself that getting involved with Clint would only cause her to get all tangled up inside. Inhaling a deep breath, she retied the scarf and straightened the sleeves. As long as she didn’t think about Clint, she wouldn’t overheat.
But while Ava tamed her messy hair, she had a tough time not recalling how bone-melting it felt to have Clint’s hands cradling the back of her head while he kissed her deeply, thoroughly, like she had dreamed about for years. She touched her fingertips to her bottom lip. Oh, Clint had been a good kisser when they were teenagers, but that kiss blew those memories right out of the water.
If the kiss was any indication, Clint would be an amazing lover. Not that she was going to find out. “Wow . . .” Fanning her cheeks, Ava hurried back to the kitchen. After pausing to fill Rosie’s
water bowl, she stopped to pat the little dog on the head. She gave Ava an I-know-you’re-leaving me sad puppy face and then trotted over to her bed, flopped down, and rested her face on her paws. “I’ll be back later to let you out, Rosie,” Ava crooned. Rosie’s eyes were already looking heavy. The morning romp in the snow was taking its toll.
With a smile, Ava picked up the cookies and then headed down the stairs leading to the toy store. “Hi, Ronnie,” Ava called as she set the box behind the counter. “Sorry I’m a little bit late.” She smiled at the cute little college junior who helped her out on weekends and during the holiday rush.
“No problem. I used my key to get in. And we’re pretty much ready to open.” Ronnie stepped back from the display of wooden blocks she was arranging into a castle. “Do you think it needs a moat?”
“Of course.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Ronnie was dressed in a fun little elf outfit and wore black knee-high boots. “Well, would you look at those rosy cheeks of yours?” She flipped her long strawberry blond braid over her shoulder and arched one eyebrow.
Ava put her cool palms to her warm cheeks. “I’ve been, you know, rushing around.” She pointed to the sweater and plucked at the fabric. “And this thing is hot.”
“And seriously boring.”
“I prefer the term ‘festive.’”
Ronnie sighed. “You’re so gorgeous, and for some reason you don’t play it up. I’m dying to take you shopping. Oh . . .” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Speaking of gorgeous, tell me all about your hot boyfriend who just walked across the street and climbed into that sexy BMW.”