Luciana tipped up her nose. “Show me to the roasted chestnuts. I can smell them.”
Jack chuckled and tugged her hand in the right direction.
As he’d hoped, experiencing the festival with someone who’d never been there before was exactly what he needed to distract him from his old memories. He’d always liked Christmas and all the festivities around it, but it had been hard to get past his depression after Madison dumped him on Christmas Day two years ago.
With Luciana at his side, he only had to worry about an evening out with an attractive woman. No expectations and no commitments.
They walked around and after sampling a little bit of everything, Jack steered them to the last food booth. “Let’s go. I saved the best for last.”
“What’s this booth?” Luciana asked.
“Italian cookies and hot chocolate,” he said with a smile. He swung behind the counter and pulled out a tall cup from the stack.
“Hey, Jack. Are you staying?” Ashley said, while arranging a batch of cookies on a tray.
“Luciana, this is my cousin’s daughter, Ashley. And that’s her dad, my cousin Peter.” Peter raised a hand from the other end of the counter, where he was helping customers. “Luciana is working at the museum for two weeks.”
Luciana smiled and waved at the cousins. “Hi, how are you?”
“So you’re not staying to help?” Ashley asked.
“My shift’s tomorrow.” He grabbed a paper bag and filled it halfway with an assortment of cookies. “Today I’m showing Luciana around the Christmas Festival of Hudson Springs.”
Ashley glanced at Luciana. “You better hurry up with the showing.” She said in a low tone. “She looks cold.”
Jack called Luciana over and handed her a cup, then took a cup for himself and the paper bag.
With their palms wrapped around the steaming cups of cocoa, they could no longer old hands and Jack missed the contact.
Luciana took a careful sip as she waited for him to come from behind the counter.
“What do you think?” hHe asked her.
She closed her eyes and inhaled. “I think you’ve been holding out on me. This is so delicious.”
Jack chuckled. “It tastes better when you’ve been standing out in the cold.” He handed her the bag of cookies. “Try one of these now.”
Luciana reached in the bag and drew out a cookie, then took a bite. “This is fantastic. What is it?”
“They’re chestnut tortelli with a filling of spiced rum, chestnuts, and chocolate.” Jack watched her delight.
“I’m sure people tell you all the time, but you guys must have the best baker in town.”
Jack made a small bow. “Why, thank you. We like to think so, but it’s not polite to brag.” He chuckled lightly.
Luciana stopped. “Wait. You’re the baker? I already know you make the best coffee in town, not to mention the most delicious sandwiches. And I thought you said you were the accountant.”
Jack shrugged. “Accountant, barista, baker, busboy. A little of everything.”
“You’re a veritable Jack-of-all-trades. No pun intended.” She grinned at her little joke, her eyes crinkling with joy, her cheeks rosy.
“Like I haven’t heard that one before,” he said with a grin of his own.
They finished their food near a free-standing gas warmer and, as they started toward the craft and holiday decoration booths, Luciana adjusted her scarf. “I see I’ll have to come back with a bag and a plan.” She hopped from one foot to the other, her shoulders hunched despite her cheery expression.
She was cold. She wore a hand knit scarf, hat, and gloves, but he’d barely noticed what she was wearing under her coat. And her shoes didn’t look to be warm enough. He’d been so distracted spending time with Luciana that he’d failed to remember she was probably not used to the cold weather in Hudson Springs.
He took both her hands in his and rubbed them between his. “You’re freezing.”
She shrugged, her smile still on. “Maybe a little.”
He held on to her hand. “Come on, I have one last spot.”
She gripped his hand tighter and, as he led Luciana out of the festival grounds, he had one question burning to be asked. “You can tell me to mind my own business, but I have to ask.”
Luciana slowed down and turned to him. “Ask away.”
“You and Matt Garrison.” He looked to her. “Is there anything—”
“Jack,” a woman’s voice interrupted him.
Jack went still and Luciana came to a stop behind him, her hand letting go of his.
He wasn’t prepared for this. Of all the people in town, why did he have to bump into Mrs. Parker? Hadn’t the Parkers moved away right after the whole fiasco? But it was Christmas. Of course they’d return for the festival.
“Hello, Jack,” Mrs. Parker said. “You’re looking good.”
“Mrs. Parker,” he replied gravely. Too gravely. He cleared his throat. “How are you?”
“Good, good. We’re in town for the festival. Can’t miss that, of course.”
Of course they wouldn’t. Like everyone else in Hudson Springs, the family tradition was too ingrained.
The tension was palpable and Jack didn’t know what to say to disperse it. Beside him, Luciana took a step closer. For a moment, he’d forgotten she was there. When her gloved fingers found his, he grabbed on to her hand, grateful for the contact, for the support she offered.
Mrs. Parker didn’t miss the gesture and she pinned a gaze on Luciana, then turned to him. “Is this—”
“I’m Luciana,” Luciana interrupted in a cheerful voice. “Don’t you love this festival? I didn’t expect it to be this large.” She pressed closer to his side, her other hand resting on his forearm. “I’m so glad Jack is showing me around.”
Her sweet smile implied a lot more than the recent friendship they had, and Jack took it unashamedly, making a show of lacing their gloved fingers, indebted to her for the quick thinking and intervention.
After another long moment, he’d had enough. “Well, I better take Luciana for some hot chocolate. If you’ll excuse us.”
Mrs. Parker stepped aside. “Yes, of course. Nice seeing you, Jack.”
He nodded, not knowing what to say to that. There was nothing nice about the encounter; just a whole lot of awkward.
Luciana took her farthest hand away from his harm, and they walked on, still holding hands at their sides.
“You are a very perceptive woman, Luciana,” he said at last. He relaxed his hand, but she didn’t let go, and the relief passed through him in a long exhale.
“It looked like you needed a good friend,” she said simply.
She had no idea.
He found the first shortcut toward home and steered them that way.
“It’s my turn to say you can tell me to mind my own business, but who was that?” Luciana asked.
“My fiancée’s mother,” he replied.
* * *
Jack had a fiancée?
The questions simmered as Luciana followed Jack past a driveway and a dead garden. They’d walked a block away from the town square and the festival, maybe even less, but she didn’t recognize the area.
He hadn’t said a word since meeting the woman on the sidewalk in what must have been the most awkward encounter Luciana had witnessed. Her chest still pricked at the revelation of his words, but she held her judgment until Jack gave her an explanation.
“How does a fireplace sound?” He pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “And maybe a warm dinner?”
“Are you serious?” Her mood picked up. As fun as the festival was, her feet were frozen to the bone and she was ready for some warmth. She was ready for answers too.
He led her into a front room and she relaxed. The indoor temperature wrapped around her like warm flannel sheets, the ones she had in her bed in Lisbon.
“Is this your home?” she asked.
Jack turned on the lamp light on the entry ceiling t
hen moved to a dormant fireplace. With the turn of a switch, the flames flicked to life.
“I live with my Mom and Nonna. My grandmother,” he corrected. He motioned her over. “Come sit by the fire. I’ll be right back.” He turned the closest stuffed chair to face the gas flames, then took her coat and hung it in the closet.
Luciana approached the chair and removed her hat, scarf, and gloves, placing them on the coffee table. She sat down, extending her feet and hands toward the heat. She looked around the room.
The fireplace sat between two windows, with a grouping of chairs around it. Next to it, a floor to ceiling Christmas tree, laden with ornaments and lights, dominated the room with its quiet presence. On the wall behind her, a set of shelves displayed a few books and several family photos in small frames. Luciana stood, intent of taking a closer look, but just then Jack’s mother entered the room.
“First he freezes you, then he forgets you,” she said as she approached Luciana with a pair of slippers in her hands. “Here, put these on.”
“Mrs. DiLorenzo, hi.” Luciana stood and held the slippers. “I don’t want to intrude—”
“Nonsense,” she waved her hand. “You need a chance to warm up. Just follow me to the back.”
Luciana edged to the side and quickly replaced her shoes with the lined slippers, then walked behind Jack’s mom through a dining room and a short hallway, emerging into a spacious kitchen, where Jack stood at the stove.
“Jack, you forgot Luciana in the front room,” his mother said.
Jack turned and smiled. “I knew you’d get her, so technically I didn’t forget.” He mouthed sorry to Luciana, and she smiled at him.
He was back to being the light Jack, and the tension from meeting the woman was gone from his expression and posture. Luciana could wait for the chance to ask her questions.
The kitchen was wide and it opened to a family room where another gas fireplace crackled happily. Already Luciana’s feet had warmed up, and her heart didn’t stand a chance at the sight of Jack with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“Ah, Luchana, you join us,” Jack’s grandmother said. She raised a knitting needle in greeting, sitting in the family room.
Luciana approached, curious to see the project the older lady was working. “What are you knitting?”
“Hats for the little ones,” she replied.
“Come, sit.” Paola guided Luciana to the island and a bar-height chair.
“I’ll have this ready in five minutes,” Jack said, as he stirred and added ingredients to a sauté pan.
“How’s the project coming, Luciana?” Paola asked. “Tell us what you’re working on.”
“I’m working at the museum to help restore a collecting of 19th century knitted garments.” Luciana spent a few minutes explaining the scope of her work to Jack’s mother and grandmother.
“For how long?” Nonna asked.
“I’m leaving on December 27th in the evening.” She had a red-eye flight to Lisbon.
“You are missing Christmas with your boyfriend?” Nonna asked, her eyes still on the hat she knit.
Luciana smiled. “No boyfriend. Just my family and extended family.”
“Do you have a close family?” Jack asked over his shoulder.
She nodded. “I think we are close. I have three brothers, one oldest and two youngest, and we try to get together as often as we can.” With everyone so busy, sometimes it went a few months before they had the chance to meet. She was glad she’d seen Filipe when she’d visited with Catarina in Sete Fontes.
Jack turned off the burner and pulled a plate from the cabinet. “I have three sisters, one older and two younger.”
He met Luciana’s eyes and she smiled at him, unable to pull her gaze away. She wanted to believe there was a simple explanation to what had happened at the festival, but knew instinctively he wouldn’t talk until his mother and grandmother had left.
Jack scooped drained spaghetti onto a plate, piling it into a swirl. From the other pan, he dished a portion of the homemade tomato sauce he’d been working on, and then he grated Parmesan from a small block. He finished with a pinch of chopped herbs.
“Hope you like Italian,” he said, setting the plate in front of Luciana.
Paola added a set of utensils, a napkin, and a glass of water. “We also have red wine, juice, and sodas. What would you like to drink?”
“Water is fine. Thank you. This looks fantastic.” Luciana held her fork. “Am I the only one eating?”
“We already ate,” said Paola. “In fact, it’s time to help Nonna with her medicine before bed time. We need a good night’s rest. Tomorrow’s the Santa Parade and we can’t miss that.” She touched Luciana on the shoulder. “Luciana, it was great seeing you. We hope you’ll come again before you leave.”
Jack came around the counter and kissed his mom’s cheek, then walked over to his grandma and did the same. “Have a good night, you two.”
Nonna patted his face. “Be good, ragazzo.”
“Always, Nonna,” he replied with a boyish expression.
They watched as the ladies left the room. “They remind me of my Mom and Grandma,” Luciana said to Jack.
“Is this the same grandma who wants you to go wedding dress shopping?” Jack asked.
Luciana nodded with a chuckle. “Yes, my grandmother from the Romano side. She only has sons, but she’s close to my mother and my aunts.” Despite her meddling, Avó Teresa meant well and Luciana loved her.
Jack got a plate and joined Luciana at the island.
After a few bites of the dinner Jack had cooked for her, she was in heaven. “This sauce tastes like homegrown summer tomatoes. How did you do it? Do you have a greenhouse tucked in the back?”
“No, but we do grow our own tomatoes and other vegetables. I cook the sauce when the tomatoes are ripe and Mom and Nonna can the sauce when it’s fresh.” He gestured to an empty glass jar sitting by the stove. “All I had to do was boil the spaghetti and warm the sauce.”
“Are you a chef too? This plate looks amazing and the sauce is divine. I’d pay good money for a jar of it.”
Jack stood and walked to a pantry in the corner of the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with two jars and set them in front of her. “This one is traditional and the other is puttanesca, with kalamata olives and capers.”
Luciana stared at the jars. “I can’t take these. They’ll break.”
“I’ll give you a couple of zipper plastic bags to place them in. Just pack them in the middle of the suitcase among your clothes. They’ll be just fine.”
“Okay, I’ll do it. If I end up with tomato sauce in my sweaters, I’ll blame it on you.” She took the last bite, savoring the rich flavors.
For dessert, Jack served her a big, fat slice of the richest, most decadent tiramisu she’d ever had, and Luciana ate in silence, wondering how this man with such a talent for baking and cooking delicious food was still single.
Then she remembered the encounter at the festival. Maybe he wasn’t married, but he had a fiancée. Or did he?
She shifted in her seat and put down the fork. When she met Jack’s eyes, his expression had the same kind of guarded curiosity she felt at the moment.
A prick of doubt flashed through her. Did she really want to get past the privacy of friendly acquaintance?
He studied her, and the vulnerability she saw in his eyes lent her the courage to want something more without the fear of rejection. She hadn’t come on this trip looking for a relationship. In fact, the opposite was true.
But here she was, wishing the promise of something beyond friendship could be as real as the man sitting across from her. And if it was wrong to feel this way after having met him four days ago, then she didn’t want to know about it.
Jack cleared his throat. “You’re probably wondering about that woman we met.” His brown eyes pulled her in, warm and tentative. Did he feel like her, wanting to confide but holding back for fear of rejection?
&nbs
p; Luciana nodded. “The mother of your fiancée? It crossed my mind.” She relaxed against the high-back chair. “And, for the record, the only thing Matt Garrison and I have is nothing but professional.” Matt had dropped by the museum to talk to Mr. Wynthrop and when he’d invited her for lunch, she’d accepted. Ending up at the DiLorenzo Café had been his suggestion and she’d agreed with it.
Jack’s shoulders relaxed. “I didn’t have the right to ask.”
“Curiosity doesn’t bother me, especially when I’m curious too.”
Jack nodded . “Mrs. Parker is Madison’s mom and Madison was my fiancée” His eyes shifted and he swallowed. “She—we broke up almost two years ago around this time of year.”
“I’m sorry.” She leaned forward and touched his hand. “No wonder it was so awkward.”
Jack chuckled. “Yes, it was. The last time I saw Madison’s mom I was still engaged to her daughter.”
“It probably didn’t help that I stood right next to you.”
He turned her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “It helped me a lot, to have you by my side like that. Thank you.” A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth.
Luciana’s cheeks heated under his gaze and she shrugged, still holding on to his hand.
Jack let go. “Now I made you uncomfortable.” He stood and took their plates to the sink. “Enough serious for now. I don’t want to scare you off.”
He winked at her and Luciana chuckled. She appreciated his effort in making the conversation less intense.
Jack led the way back to the living room and they sat by the fireplace.
“What are your plans for the weekend?” he asked.
Her shoes had dried and she put them on. “Tomorrow I have some work to do at the museum. Sunday I’m free, but I haven’t thought about what I want to do yet.”
“The Santa Parade is tomorrow at nine in the morning, if you can make it.”
“I could go in to work a little later and then stay later, if I need to.” She stood and gathered her coat, scarf, gloves, and hat. “I better go. It’s getting late.”
Jack got his coat from the rack. “I’ll drive you home.”
Keep Me At Christmas (Romano Family Book 4) Page 6