Christmas Kisses: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 1)

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Christmas Kisses: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 1) Page 37

by Lucy McConnell


  Keira checked her watch— 5:30. Pizzas should be ready for pick up, donated from Jack’s. Walking to the front, she almost rammed right into Tayton.

  “Whoa, sorry, what are you doing here?” She noticed the sheen of perspiration on his forehead, and the stretched gray jersey shirt and tan work gloves.

  He steadied her at the elbows, too close for her comfort, and hopefully before he saw her cheeks go pink. In the heat of emotion, those two cheek spots always made their appearance whether she liked it or not.

  Tayton gazed down at her for a moment then released her arms. “I came here to update you and got roped into helping with the sleigh rides. And the human cannonball contraption. And the stone pathway.”

  Keira laughed. “Look at you, Mr. Versatile. And helping with the soda fountain tear out, too. Don’t tell me you learned that on Madison Avenue.”

  Hands resting on his hips, he shook his head. “Landscaping for four college summers, you learn a few things. Where you headed?”

  “I’m picking up the pizza order at Jack’s. They donated food for the volunteers.”

  “Can I give you a hand?” He stood firmly but his tone carried a hesitancy.

  Keira was only too happy for the company. “Sure, that would be great. If you think landscaping skills can prepare you for pizza pick-up.”

  “A working man’s gotta do…”

  He took off the gloves as they walked in the setting sun, guiding her by the small of her back around the snow banks and working men. At the car, he once again opened the door, talking easily with some other men on the way to the driver’s side. One of them said something that made him shake his head, glancing at Keira to see if she heard.

  “What was that?” she said.

  “Nothing. Just overactive imaginations of old minds.” Keira held his rueful expression for a moment. An energy flickered between them that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

  Care-ful.

  She turned a little too quickly to check her phone. “Do you know where Jack’s is?

  “Yeah. I like to know my way around as fast as possible.”

  “I guess you do.” They shared an easy smile and headed over.

  Jack’s had all twenty pizzas with soda ready to go. Tayton’s Land Rover came in handy for the transport. During the drive back, they connected on the soda fountain progress and social media responses. Both were moving forward.

  Together, Keira and Tayton distributed the pizzas and soda, standing side by side handing out cups and making small talk with others. More than a few times people asked if they were a couple. If she were honest with herself, the thought wasn’t unappealing. But Keira lightly made it clear they were not.

  Once the food had been cleaned up, Keira turned to Tayton. “Everything looks set. Crossed fingers for tomorrow, I know we need it. Thanks for doing this with me today, you didn’t need to, you know.”

  He turned, all six foot something before her. “But I did, if I truly want to know—” he gently imitated a woman’s voice—”the heart of Christmas.”

  She blushed at his remembering her stand-and-deliver speech at the store on the day they first met. “You have an unfortunate memory.”

  “And you have a helpful and connected vision.” He said it quietly, as was his way on personal things. Neither broke eye contact, and for a moment, she felt that whoosh sensation, like going down the rollercoaster just over the top, before the plunge. A moment later someone asked for the garbage cans and she shook it off.

  Time to focus on making this event the success it had to be. Every penny literally counted. If this event was successful tomorrow, they could clear a helpful amount toward the total needed to keep the store going. Kenworth’s was on track to be saved, and hopefully with it, her dad’s motivation to keep living. No whooshing heart-pounding romance would get in the way.

  Saturday dawned with a morning flurry of snow outside and a deep worry in Keira’s soul. It was barely mid-December and they still hadn’t significantly budged Kenworth’s financial stats. Something good needed to happen today.

  Driving to the Big Barn Boutique with her windshield wipers fighting the white flakes, she tried to think positive. In half an hour it would clear and be blue sky all the way. Shoppers would be able to reach the barn and all would be well.

  Right?

  Nervous gurgling sounded in her tummy. Doing this venture was a huge leap of faith and effort. And coordination. If it failed, it wouldn’t just be Kenworth’s, it would be all the vendors. And there would go the trust and future support for promotional ideas for the town. Tayton had not only gotten behind the idea, but actively worked as hard as her to make it fly.

  Kiera shook her head. No thoughts of Tayton today. Focus on the boutique. Pray they get visitors. A lot of visitors. Even if only a hundred showed through the entire day, it would at least feel like success.

  As she pulled into the Big Barn parking lot, Keira almost cheered. This was a good start. Adorning the 30-foot high rustic building were white decorative Christmas lights intertwined on twigs, red bows, and silver bells. In the front sat an old-fashioned sleigh and loading/sitting area. Behind and down the hill, teen boys and a few off-duty firemen readied the human cannonball machine— a makeshift “slingshot” that propelled a body on a sled to go down the back snow hill into a mattress or powdered snow stop, whichever came first. She laughed to herself. Carlos had suggested it to draw the teens and the social media buzz. Now, an hour and a half before opening kids were already lining up. So far so good.

  As Keira entered the building, the smell of warm apple cider, pine trees, and a hint of barbecue washed over her. Chatting busy people moved in all directions. Eighteen white booths stood around the perimeter of the expansive room, a tight squeeze for that many, but it worked. A small black stage, used for the choir productions, sat like a centerpiece. A few rows of folding chairs circled around it. A table off stage already held many gifts and donations to be used for raffling. Another table on the right side would be used for DIY craft and cooking demonstrations.

  “Pretty amazing.” The low rumble of Tayton’s voice sent that familiar trail of goosebumps up her spine.

  She turned to him as he stood in a plaid navy blue and white shirt loose over a form-fitting wine-colored T-shirt and those wonderful jeans. She nodded. “Can you believe how it’s turned out?”

  He glanced down, taking her in. “I wasn’t talking about the event.” A small smile and he turned back to the room. “But now that you mention it…”

  She nudged him playfully. “Now all we need are the people.”

  A cloud passed over him. “Yep, that’s what we need.” Wordlessly, they both started walking to reconnoiter the place in a walk-through. He glanced at the booths. “Social media posts this week have had good responses. A lot of cross-posting. One of the Geek Squad’s girlfriends is heavy into DIY blogs. We got some great traction from those. She contacted a few of the Ladies League who have been posting regularly— crafts, where to find deals, that kind of thing. A good surprise that, the young seeking out the old.”

  “That’s a great fit. Good call.”

  “It was your inspiration. Both of them heard your ‘heartfelt’ pitch and pounded the social media pavement. Nice work. Again.” He turned slightly. “Are you honing in on my commission or something?”

  “Just dinner at Chips. Maybe dessert.” They exchanged a connected smile but Keira turned her head quickly.

  Keep it professional. He wasn’t staying around.

  Along the aisle they stopped at various booths, chatting amiably, answering questions, asking how they could help. Tayton commented positively on various products, including local paintings of the valley that he particularly liked. Keira encouraged the vendors to use the Hope Tree ornament cards, connecting customers to Kenworth’s with partial proceeds and new customer interest.

  In the northern corner, they paused at Chips’ booth, who acted as the food court for the event. He gave them warm rolls from under the pl
astic canopy.

  “Fancy meeting you two here.” That trademark grin which Keira ignored.

  “Yeah, you’d think we were spearheading the event or something,” she said, and bit into the roll. “Ooh, Chip, these are magic.”

  “Well, there best be some magic today. I’ve got Jack’son working the grill at the diner and you know how he gums it up.” Chip shook his head, stirring the pulled pork in a giant stainless steel serving station. “Don’t want to lose my good customers.”

  Keira gestured with her roll. “You won’t. They’ll all be over here, finding out where Chip is, and what incredible event actually made him leave the restaurant. A first, if ever there was one.”

  Tayton nodded. “We’re projecting close to four hundred people, so you should be good. And we have TV and radio exposure. No worries.”

  Chip looked up briefly with another grin and a nod.

  Keira and Tayton moved on, nearing the end of the booths. While walking she leaned in closer to be discreet. “Were you serious back there? Are you really thinking four hundred people today?”

  He kept his gaze straight ahead. “If you build it, they will come.”

  Keira took that in. Had he lied?

  As if reading her mind, he added, “To be clear, I didn’t lie. Projections are good for three-fifty plus.” He leaned his head briefly toward her as if looking past her at something else. “And the added projection was faith. It’s okay to have that, right?”

  The rumble of his voice and soft breath on her ear made her momentarily forget what it was they were discussing.

  “Right, yes, sure. Good thinking.” What was that about faith? “Wait a minute. You told Chip we had TV and radio exposure. Did you get ad placement?”

  “Not exactly.” He smiled mischievously. They reached the open double front doors to see “WGEN 97.9” on a bright blue and black van. “I got the radio station to host an on-site event. The money will be tight but well-used. And Channel 4 will be here in a few minutes to do an on-site interview that we can capture and repost.”

  Keira stared at him in awe. “Are you serious? How do you do it? Talk about work the magic, you’re incredible.”

  “You just noticed this?”

  She shook her head. “Well, glad it’s you, not me. I’ll go back to Shennedy and make myself useful.”

  “You think I’m doing this alone, partner?” He tugged her hand to walk around four people hauling in large woodcarvings. “You’re doing the interviews with me.”

  “Me?”

  That began a whirlwind of radio spots throughout the day, with local TV and newspapers from combined counties.

  Throughout the day, Keira observed Tayton in his element. Even though he did the point-and-shoot of moving the promo spots along, he continually stayed connected to her. Repeatedly, he would introduce the event then turn it over to Keira for pop descriptions and a happy story about one of the booth owners. Tayton would wrap it up with numbers and stats to create credibility and the call to action.

  Sharp. The guy was good. And yet…warm in the process. Each time they moved to a different spot for filming or recording, he put his hand on her lower back to guide her. Whether he wiped snow from a bench or cleared a path for her, the gestures flowed naturally and without thought. Someone raised him right, that’s for sure.

  By the late afternoon, and the majority of promo spots behind them, Keira surveyed the inside of the barn. The noise was cheerfully deafening. The piped in Christmas music could barely be heard above the din of about a hundred people of varying ages and dress meandering through the booths. The Ice Money ladies— from two of the upscale stores— chatted animatedly with a group of Japanese visitors. These women had scored the best located booths right at the front. But Keira knew it was worth it. No doubt they’d put out their feelers and connections.

  Customers consistently moved down the aisles. Over the past few hours, Tayton and Keira had split up to cover more ground and meet any needs. Almost too hopeful to know the actual numbers, and if they translated to sales, Keira closed her eyes and offered a prayer of thanks. Her stomach growled and she made her way to Chips. With a cheery wave and a nod of permission from Chips, she grabbed two plates of pulled pork sandwiches, roasted corn and beans, and brought them to Tayton in his Land Rover outside.

  Peering in the window she could see him simultaneously talking through an earpiece and texting on his phone. She tapped on the window with her elbow. He smiled, a surprised happy kind. Keira felt the familiar sensation, the rollercoaster whoosh in her stomach and couldn’t help but return an openly appreciative smile.

  He leaned over to open her door. “Great, Annie. Keep following up and don’t let Windham sideswipe you. Okay? Listen, I gotta go, I’ll call you later.”

  Annie? Hmm. Keira pushed down a small, a very, very small pang of jealousy.

  He reached for the plates to help her. “Sorry about that— wow, this looks great. I could eat a raw deer about now.”

  “Gee, yum. No deer, just pig.” Keira handed him silverware and a bottle of lemonade, toasting it with hers as they settled into the food. “Been on the phone a lot?”

  “You know it.” He waited for her to start eating then dug in. “Want the good or bad news?”

  She moaned. “Bad, of course.”

  “The Hope Tree posts from this morning, the ones we took by the human cannonball machine, did not get 500% more interest as we had hoped.”

  “Well, it was worth a shot. Literally. What’s the good news?”

  He grinned wider. “The posts got 4,000% more interest.” Their hands high-fived then clasped together. Keira allowed herself to enjoy the warmth of his hand and the zing it created, then let go.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Only on Saturdays. Want to hear the rest?” Keira smiled, he was like a schoolboy. “So far we’ve sold 442 tickets, and it’s only three o’clock. Sales are looking good— nothing official, but from checking the booths, we are on target to make decent numbers.”

  This time, Keira laughed out loud. “Can you believe it turned out successfully, the first time?”

  He turned and faced her, in the small space of the front of the car. “Yes. Yes, I can. You want to talk about magic. That’s you, Keira.”

  His eyes never left hers. An almost tangible electricity sizzled in the air. Her left hand held her plate, mere inches from his hand, and something within her itched to take it and hold it and lift it to her face, and…

  “It was a team effort, I believe.” She looked down at her plate. Anywhere but at him. Way too dangerous.

  “Genius doesn’t need a team. Just a minion. That would be me.”

  “Mighty fine minion. I mean…” Had she said that aloud? What in the world was wrong with her? “What I meant was, most minions don’t look like they walked out of an Eddie Bauer catalogue, so…well, that may not be exactly what I’m trying to say. You’re just, how can I say this, you’re this whole package. Not like I see you as an object kind of package, but you’re smart, and kind, and you like my ideas, which puts you on my Christmas card list for sure, so, yes, it’s just really great to work with you.”

  Silence.

  When did the Land Rover get so small inside?

  She could feel him smiling and she did not look up. “So, my good news…We got the okay from Krugers to leave the booths at least one more week. With these numbers I’m thinking we’ll be good for next weekend for a repeat Big Barn Boutique. Thoughts?”

  “Absolutely. Good thinking to keep the booths up. That will save on take down tonight.”

  “Are you staying for closing tonight?” She moved her hand to steady her plate and it grazed his thigh.

  He coughed. “Uh, you bet. The guys will take down the cannonball and sleigh rides after dinnertime, the other vendors after nine. Sounds like minimal clean up, and Shennedy’s seen to that. But I’ll make sure the basics are done.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Well, I might need some hel
p with the heavy stuff, so there’s that.”

  She laughed and hazarded a look at him. That mischievous grin. He cheered his lemonade bottle to hers again. “Here’s to a successful night.”

  After hours of people streaming in, even from fifty miles away in Emory, they said goodbye to Shennedy who wanted to lock up. Walking Keira to her car, Tayton became quiet. “Going to sleep in tomorrow? You’ve earned it.”

  “You know it. Services don’t start until eleven. Best day ever.” She grabbed her keys from her purse. “Do you attend now?”

  He shrugged. “Depends.”

  Keira smiled. “You should come. And maybe even make a good name for yourself in the greater metropolis of Echo Ridge.”

  “That could work. Send me the info.”

  “Sure. I’ll even save you a seat.” She stopped fiddling with her keys and stared up at him. In the dark, with the street lamp, and the sound of cars slushing through the snow, the silence became more pronounced.

  Again, he appeared to be ready to say something, but then thought the better of it. “Tomorrow it is. Great job today. Magic maker.”

  “Miracle worker.”

  He leaned in and reached around her, opening her door. Keira’s heart beat faster but she laughed nervously instead and got in the car.

  Getting to sleep that night took a long, long time.

  PASTOR LOUIS TYPICALLY PREACHED a poignant and tender sermon during December so today’s congregation was unusually large. Keira worried about saving a pew. They were already filling up. She smoothed down her champagne colored dress and cream Anne Klein coat with gloves. As was tradition, she had put on her mother’s pink pearls and matching earrings, just like every December. Everyone dressed for holiday church, with matching handbags and shoes so shiny you knew they hadn’t been worn in years, or at least since the last holiday.

  The scent of man and Tommy Hilfiger wandered to her and she turned to her right.

  “Morning.”

  Keira stared. Oh. My.

  With his dark hair close-trimmed and cut trendy on top, a fresh shave, and a navy blue Armani suit with navy and silver striped tie, she knew her head wasn’t the only one turned.

 

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