by Shirley Jump
“If I eat all of that, I might explode. Wait...is that real maple syrup?”
“Yep.”
Vivian groaned. Nick would have paid a million dollars to be the reason she made that sound when he touched her. “That sounds good. Save me one.” She stared toward the table, then paused and glanced at him. “Aren’t you eating?”
“I have to serve breakfast to the guests first. I’m doing a buffet with an omelet station in the dining room. I’ll eat later.”
“That’s no fun.” She sat down at the table, spread a napkin across her lap and picked up her fork.
“Ah, but all the fun for me is in watching other people eat my creations.” And even though he knew the guests were waiting for their breakfast, he turned and watched Vivian take her first bite.
A smile spread across her face, and she closed her eyes for a moment. “Wow. That’s amazing. Velvety and buttery and not at all like I expected.”
“A good French omelet will make you forget all other omelets. Sort of like a good man.” What was he saying? Where the hell had that come from? Was he volunteering for the job?
“I wouldn’t know.” Her cheeks flushed. “I mean about the omelets. My breakfast is normally a granola bar eaten on the run—or just a cup of coffee if I’m really in a rush. And if I do a business breakfast, I’m too busy working and talking to eat more than a couple bites of anything.”
“That’s no fun,” he said, repeating her words. He really needed to get back to work, but he was enjoying this rare moment of being alone with Vivian more than he wanted to admit. Mavis and Della were still cooing over the baby, their voices carrying down the hall from the office. He could hear the guests milling about the dining room. And still he stayed.
“I’ve always looked at food as a means to an end, you know?” Vivian said. She paused to eat the rest of her omelet, and let out a little moan of satisfaction at the end.
Damn. Nick was never going to be able to concentrate on cooking if she kept doing that. All he wanted to do was hear her make those sounds in his bedroom. “You, uh—” he cleared his throat, refocused his attention “—enjoyed your breakfast?”
She nodded. “Very much. I never realized what an experience a meal could be if I just slowed down and appreciated every bite.”
She had finished the eggs and bacon, and was slathering butter on her muffin. If only to stop thinking about kissing her, Nick grabbed the pot of coffee, topped off Vivian’s mug and set the creamer on the table. The waffles, muffins and bacon waited for him to bring them to the dining room. “I...should get back to work.”
A soft smile curved across her face, and her blue eyes held his. “That’s no fun.”
He stepped away from the stove, his focus narrowing to only Vivian. Just as he moved to cross the kitchen toward her, Mavis marched into the kitchen with Ellie in her arms. An interruption both welcome and frustrating. In an instant, the sexual tension between Vivian and Nick evaporated.
“We have decided we are going to kidnap this little munchkin tonight!” Mavis exclaimed. “Because Della and I think you two need to go out and have a date.”
“Oh, we’re not...” Vivian looked at Nick. Her cheeks flushed, as if they’d been caught kissing by her father. “We aren’t...”
Dating Vivian would be a huge mistake. He already knew where this path ended. He’d had a taste of it for the past week. His parents’ relationship was bad enough, but at least they shared similar goals. Selfish goals that meant neglecting their kids, but shared goals all the same. He and Vivian didn’t want the same things at all. He wanted a family. She wanted a career, to the exclusion of everything else. They’d never be happy together in the long run. If he was smart, he’d say thanks but no thanks to Mavis and get back to work.
Instead, he poured another ladle of waffle mix into the iron, then turned to Vivian and said, “We should.”
“We should...?” The question trailed off, and a flicker of mischief lit her eyes, maybe started by the decadence of blowing off work and indulging in real maple syrup. “That would be a full day of playing hooky for me. I don’t think I’ve ever done that.”
He wondered what else Vivian had yet to do. And how he could figure into that. “Then let’s do it. We can grab some dinner and then go pick out that Christmas tree. Together.”
“I’d like that, Nick.” The whispered words were almost buried under the beep of the waffle iron, but he heard them. And told himself that the warmth he felt from them was just the steam from the iron. It couldn’t be anything more.
Chapter Eight
When Ellie napped, Vivian was finally able to work. She’d opted to hole up for the day in Della’s office with her laptop, because being in that kitchen with Nick this morning had been way too tempting. Not just to eat ten more omelets, the entire stack of waffles and every last blueberry muffin, but to touch him, kiss him and find out why he’d agreed to that crazy plan of a date tonight. The initial plan of a full day of playing hooky had been replaced by a full day of working and an evening off. Anything else was too distracting and awoke a craving inside her she’d never known before.
An insane part of her was looking forward to the whole thing. She hadn’t been on a date in over a year, and had never picked out a Christmas tree. The few holidays that she’d had when she was in foster care had been half-hearted at best, with overwhelmed temporary parents and houses full of kids. Every year, her mother had promised. I’m gonna get you girls back, and we’re gonna have the best Christmas you’ve ever seen. I’m just waiting on a paycheck—or the courts or a man or whatever the excuse was that year—and then I’m gonna get you and we’ll be a family again.
Even before foster care, there had been broken promises and empty dinner tables. Vivian stopped believing in her mother a lot sooner than she stopped believing in Santa Claus. There were no Christmas miracles, just a lot of empty promises.
But maybe this year she could create a little Christmas magic for Ellie. Her niece wouldn’t remember it, but years down the road, Vivian could show her pictures, and tell her that for her first Christmas, there had been a tree and a Santa.
Vivian took a sip of lemonade—yet another homey touch from Della and Mavis—then got back to work on an email reply to the equipment manufacturer’s legal team. They wanted to avoid the lengthy court trial and millions it would likely cost them by settling out of court. The settlement they offered, however, wasn’t enough, not without an admission of guilt and a recall of all other similar machines in use in factories across the country. Vivian didn’t just want justice—she wanted to protect anyone else from suffering as Jerry and his family had.
She glanced over at Ellie, who had just nodded off. The day with Ellie had gone smoother than Vivian expected, mostly because there were plenty of hands on deck whenever Ellie was awake. It hadn’t been the trial by fire that Vivian had expected, thank God. Nick had popped into the office between shifts in the kitchen, but a guest who asked for a last-minute birthday cake kept him busy most of the day. Between chores around the inn, Mavis and Della hovered around the office, ready to offer advice when Vivian was feeding or changing her, and to pick up Ellie the second she let out so much as a squeak.
Vivian had researched the Stone Gap Inn before making the reservation for her and Sammie, so she’d known that the place would be comfortable and well-maintained, but the surprise—during her stay, and then during this unexpected day visiting the inn—was how big a role the owners played in making the inn such a wonderful place.
Della Barlow and Mavis Beacham welcomed every guest at the Stone Gap Inn with a Southern drawl, a warm hug and a friendly smile. Their gracious Southern hospitality matched the rooms at the inn, with their big, fluffy comforters and deep, floral-patterned armchairs. Wicker baskets overflowing with local goodies—jams, cookies, candles—waited in every guestroom for new arrivals. If there was ever a place that could be called
a home away from home, it was the Stone Gap Inn.
Little wonder, then, that Ellie responded well to both the environment and the women fussing over her. All the attention wore Ellie out, and she napped without complaint, twice in the morning and once already this afternoon.
Della rapped lightly on the open door. “Care for some company with your lunch?”
Normally, Vivian would say no because she often worked while she nibbled. But today was technically a day off, as Al reminded her in a stern voice every time she called him, and Ellie was asleep in the playpen set up in the corner of the office, so it might be nice to have some girl time with one of the inn’s owners. A few minutes of that wouldn’t make a big difference in her workday. She could always make up the time after five.
Except there was that “date” with Nick tonight that she’d agreed to. Dinner alone, before Christmas tree shopping. A part of her kept getting distracted by the idea of being alone with Nick. Of the possibility of him kissing her again.
“Sure, come on in,” Vivian said. She caught the scents of toasted bread and something fruity, and her stomach rumbled.
Vivian cleared a space at the desk for Della, then took her plate. “Thank you for bringing me this.”
“Nick’s in the kitchen, whipping up some buttercream frosting. He says baking is not his thing, but I tasted the cake batter and it was delicious. Who knew such a simple thing as a white cake with buttercream frosting could taste like heaven?” Della had a friendly face, eyes that seemed to dance every time she talked and deep red hair that spoke of a lively spark in her personality. She loved her boys, her husband and her town with a fierceness that Vivian envied.
“Just like the muffins this morning,” Vivian replied. “Nick is an incredible chef. He made something as simple as eggs, bacon and muffins into something that could rival any five-star restaurant. And this...” She glanced down at her plate. “Is this a panini?”
Della nodded. “Turkey and Swiss with homemade raspberry jam and watercress on rye bread. With a side of sweet potato fries and a cinnamon dipping sauce.”
Vivian’s mouth watered. The sandwich was perfectly toasted, glistening with warm butter. A dollop of raspberry jam slowly oozed out from between the slices of pressed bread. A towering bonfire of crispy fries was stacked beside the sandwich.
“God, that looks good. If I keep letting Nick cook for me, I’m going to gain a hundred pounds,” Vivian said. “Nick is an incredible chef.”
“You said that already.” Della grinned, then took a bite of her sandwich, chewed and swallowed. “He’s also a pretty incredible man. Any woman would be lucky to have him, if you ask me. Mavis and I have gotten to know him pretty well since he started working here.”
Vivian avoided the obvious sell of Nick as a romantic prospect. This whole thing was a bump in the road, a short detour. As soon as possible, Vivian had to go back to the real world and that meant leaving that “incredible man” here in Stone Gap. The renovations on her apartment would be done soon, and then she could go back there. Get Ellie set up in the day care program at work, maybe hire a nanny for when she had to work late, and essentially go back to her normal life. Even if the idea of that sounded awfully stale right now. “Mavis knew his grandmother, she said.”
Della nodded again. “Pretty much everyone in town knew Ida Mae. She was a big part of the Stone Gap community. Always organizing one thing or another, or helping out at things like the town picnic and the garden club. She’s going to be sorely missed.”
Despite Vivian’s vow a second earlier to forget about Nick, curiosity nudged at her. “Did you know Nick when he was growing up?”
“No, not really. The Jackson boys lived in Raleigh, so they weren’t in school with my three.” Della grabbed a fry, dipped it in the cinnamon sauce, then popped it in her mouth. “I saw the boys with Ida Mae a few times when they visited her, and she’d take them down to the lake or over to the ice cream shop, but from what I gather, they liked to stay close to home during their visits. And with three of them, they could play together, so they didn’t worry about making friends in the neighborhood. I did, however, get to know Nick’s father. Regrettably.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I know you’re a lawyer, dear, and I’m sure you’re a wonderful one. But Nick’s father is...well, a bulldog. If he was fighting for the underdog then I’d be fine with it, but he doesn’t care who he’s fighting for or against—he just wants to fight. He sued my husband’s auto repair business for something that didn’t need to go to court. Nearly bankrupted us, until Bobby went to the guy who filed the suit and worked it out in person. Those lawyers who go after businesses without knowing the whole story...” Della shook her head. “Well, I don’t have anything nice to say about them.”
Vivian nudged her trial paperwork to the side of the desk. She liked to think that she did fight for the underdog—Jerry certainly fit that description—but she knew she could be as ruthless as anyone in the courtroom, although Vivian’s job was to make cold monolithic corporations pay for their mistakes and shortcuts. She wasn’t trying to wipe out the neighbor’s business. “I worked in an auto repair shop for a few months when I was young, doing little jobs mostly. One of my foster fathers owned a business like your husband’s.” Vivian had seen the sign for Gator’s Garage on her way into town last week. She’d heard that Bobby Barlow was partially retired, and one of his sons was running the business now.
A business passed down from one generation to the next. If she’d had a child, would her son or daughter follow in her footsteps and go into law? Maybe come to work at the firm with Vivian some day? Or would her child be a rebel chef like Nick, carving out his or her own path?
“Well, should you ever need a job, Luke’s always looking for extra hands at the garage.” Della grinned.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Vivian took a bite of her sandwich and swallowed. The flavors melted against her tongue, sweet and savory, all in one. “This is really good.”
“Nick’s amazing. We’ve had so many recent Yelp reviews raving about the cooking at the inn that we can hardly keep up with bookings. December’s going to be crazy busy. Mavis and I never expected this little inn to take off so fast.”
“I’m happy for both of you. It’s a lovely place to stay.”
“That’s because Stone Gap is a lovely town to live in.” Della dipped another fry in the cinnamon sauce. “Nick says you lived here briefly?”
Vivian had already finished off most of the sandwich and made a serious dent in the fries. No wonder people raved in reviews about the meals here. “I was only here for a couple months one summer, with my sister Sammie, Ellie’s mother. We lived with a foster family. The Langstons.”
“Oh, Ruth and John,” Della said. “Lovely people. They must have fostered a hundred kids over the years. Opened their hearts and home to so many youngsters. They retired and moved to Arizona a couple years ago.”
A regrettable fact that Vivian had learned after she booked the stay here, and looked up her former foster family. They’d had a pleasant phone conversation and made vague plans to meet up another time.
“It was the best foster home I ever stayed in.” The only home where Vivian had imagined a real future, with family dinners around the dining room table and sleepovers with friends from school. From the day the girls stepped across the threshold of that blue-and-white ranch house, the Langstons had been warm and loving and had treated both girls like family. “I only wished I could have stayed longer.”
“What happened that made you leave the Langstons? If you don’t mind my asking.” Della’s eyes softened with true caring, and her hand covered Vivian’s for a moment.
“The same story that happened over and over again in our lives.” Vivian sighed. “Us girls were like a boomerang that pinged between my mother’s house and wherever the state could find space for us. That summer, my mother got he
r act together enough to get custody of us again. We went back, but all her promises not to drink and to hold on to a job lasted about two weeks, and then we were taken away from her again and sent to the next home, and the one after that. Rinse and repeat. We bounced all over North Carolina. Sometimes Sammie and I were separated—not all homes want two teenage girls at the same time—but I managed to keep in touch with her, and sometimes got to go to the same school.”
Sympathy shimmered in Della’s eyes. “You poor things. All kids should have a proper home to grow up in. I just don’t understand parents who can’t put their children first.”
Parents like Sammie, who had abandoned her daughter. Or like Vivian, who kept abdicating all the responsibilities to Nick, when Sammie had left her to be Ellie’s parent. Did Della put them in that same category?
“So you and your sister are close?” Della asked. “She looked like a lovely girl when the two of you checked in. I’m sure being a single mom has been tough on her. I remember how overwhelming it was when I had my first son.”
Vivian picked at the fries, her appetite gone. “Sammie and I grew apart after I turned eighteen and started living on my own. I booked the weekend here because I hoped it would be a chance for us to reconnect, in the one place where we both were happy for a short while. I didn’t even know she’d had a baby until she showed up. And within twenty-four hours, she was gone again.”
“And left her baby with you.”
Vivian nodded.
“Poor girl must have been so desperate to do something like that,” Della said. “Being a new mother is not an easy job. When my boys were little, there were many days when I thought about running away and joining the circus. Kids are a lot of work, and when you’re a brand-new momma, you’re always sure you are doing it wrong.”
Or a brand-new aunt who had a thimbleful of parenting skills. “Maybe. But Sammie has never been super responsible anyway.”
“Well, maybe she got scared when she realized little Ellie was counting on her to be responsible, and Sammie didn’t quite know how to do that. Did I ever tell you about my early days with Jack?” Della shook her head and let out a little laugh. “Of course I haven’t. We’ve only just met. But pretty much everyone around here knows what happened.”