Holly Pointe & Mistletoe : A heartwarming holiday romance

by Cindy Kirk

  “When you say you discovered the truth, I take it that he didn’t come clean and be honest.”

  “No.” She couldn’t meet Sam’s gaze. “It was last summer, and I was house-sitting for a coworker for a weekend. Tony was supposedly out of town on business. When I went to pick up a few necessities, I ran into him and his wife shopping at a nearby grocery store.”

  “I can’t imagine how you must have felt.” He reached down and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. “What did you do?”

  “I thought about confronting him right then and there, but . . . I didn’t.” Stella found herself gripping Sam’s hand. “I blocked his number, and when he knocked on my door, I didn’t answer. We never spoke again.”

  “Never?”

  She shook her head. “Which was a relief, but as I realized too late, that meant there was no closure, either. But I certainly wasn’t about to contact him just to tell him that he was a creep and a cheat.”

  “He didn’t deserve you.” Sam tugged her even closer. “This might sound strange, but I’m glad he was married.”

  “Why? So I’d have firsthand knowledge of what it’s like to play the fool?”

  “Because otherwise you might not have come to Holly Pointe and wouldn’t be here now with me.”

  She really did need to tell him the truth about her road to Vermont. This seemed the perfect opening. “About that—”

  “I think you and I have done enough talking about Kenny and past relationships. Right now, I’d like to focus on us.”

  Stella swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat and choked out the word. “Us?”

  “More specifically, on making the most of this warm, comfortable bed with a woman I can’t seem to get enough of.” He gave her a scorching kiss that reverberated all the way to her toes. When his lips left hers, he smiled. “How does that sound to you?”

  She blinked and tried to corral her scrambled thoughts. “Ah, what was the question again?”

  His laugh was full and robust and had everything inside her yearning. For him and for a life that now seemed within her reach.

  “Is it any wonder I’m crazy about you?”

  As their mouths found each other’s once again, Stella found herself mentally replacing the words crazy about with falling in love.

  Because that’s what she was doing. As strange as it sounded, after only two weeks, she was falling in love with Sam Johnson.

  The snow finally quit falling in the morning, and the plows came through midday, clearing drifts that were over her head. By the time the plows moved on down the road, Sam had already tended to the horses and cleared the lane leading to the road.

  He’d asked her to stay, but Stella knew that as the city administrator of a town with a snow emergency in effect, there were duties demanding his attention. Especially with another round of snow forecast for late tonight.

  “You have no idea how difficult it is for me to leave you here.” Sam kissed her softly on the lips, lingering for several heartbeats.

  “You have duties to attend to, and so do I.” Instead of stepping away or turning to open the door, Stella kept her arms around his neck. “You can hear the hum of conversation and laughter all the way up here, which means the Busy Bean is hopping. Kenny and Norma will need my help.”

  “Probably,” he agreed as his gaze searched her eyes. “I wanted more time alone with you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” She found herself wishing she could add forever, but she knew that would be presumptuous.

  Their relationship was new, and these were early days. While she’d learned that sleeping with someone wasn’t a promise of forever, neither could she deny the connection.

  “If you need a place to bunk tonight,” Stella said as she slipped her fingers into his hair, “mi casa es su casa.”

  “If I didn’t have the horses, I’d take you up on it.” The regret in his voice matched the look in his eyes. “If we get the amount forecast, along with the wind, the roads will likely blow shut again tonight. I strongly suggest you hang around home.”

  “If the roads get that bad, I want you to knock on my door so I can return the hospitality you extended to me last night.”

  He tugged her closer, a grin broadening his mouth. “Is that what you call it?”

  Stella couldn’t help laughing but quickly sobered. “I’m serious, Sam. If it looks like you won’t be able to make it home, I want you to stay here.”

  This worrying about someone else was new to her, and Stella didn’t like the image of Sam’s truck in a ditch, covered in a foot of snow.

  She gave his hair a yank.

  “Hey, what was that for?”

  “I want you to keep yourself safe.” Her voice trembled for just a second before she brought it under control. “I don’t want anything happening to you.”

  When Sam’s eyes filled with understanding, Stella knew he understood the war that raged inside her. A part of her wanted to keep her heart safe so she wouldn’t be hurt again. The other part, the part that had already fallen for him, worried for his safety on dangerous roads.

  The memory of hugging her mom and dad good-bye that one last time and never seeing them again was never far from her thoughts.

  Stella leaned her head forward so it rested against the front of his coat. “Don’t take any chances.”

  “I won’t.” He kissed the top of her head. “I promise.”

  Stella listened to the sound of his boots on the creaky steps. When she couldn’t hear him anymore, she unlocked her door and stepped inside.

  She glanced around the small, cozy space as if seeing it for the first time. Had it really been less than twenty-four hours since she’d walked out the door and down the steps to meet Sam? It felt as if a lifetime had passed.

  This afternoon she felt lighter and more at peace than she had in years. Perhaps it was because she no longer had Jane’s assignment resting like a heavy weight on her shoulders.

  Stella may have sent the text, but she knew she hadn’t heard the last from Jane. She unwound the scarf from her neck, slipped off her coat and hat, and dropped to the sofa. Only then did she pull out her phone.

  Of course she had new texts.

  And new emails.

  Not just from Jane but from her new friends, wanting to know whether she’d made it home safely.

  Guilt had her answering those texts first, apologizing and assuring everyone she was safely back in Holly Pointe and in her apartment.

  Then, she set out to read Jane’s increasingly vitriolic communications. In one of the last ones, Jane cited wording in the contract that Stella had signed and threatened legal action if she didn’t turn in the article.

  Thankfully, because of the serious reservations she’d had going into this project, Stella had carefully reviewed the contract. She’d paid special attention to the section regarding article specifications.

  Nowhere in that entire section was there any wording that would require Stella to skew the article in a certain direction. Which was the reason Stella had felt comfortable signing it.

  She knew, of course, the kind of article that Jane wanted and was demanding. But legally, Stella was only required to give the newspaper an article on Christmas in Holly Pointe within the specified word count. If the article she submitted wasn’t deemed satisfactory, she would be given the opportunity to rewrite. If she couldn’t give the newspaper an article they deemed publishable, Stella wouldn’t be paid.

  At this point, she didn’t care about the money or the job that had been dangled like a particularly juicy carrot in front of her. All she cared about was that she was now free of Jane.

  Well, nearly free of Jane.

  For a long five seconds, Stella was tempted to take the coward’s way out and let her fingers—or her thumbs—respond. But she hadn’t been raised to take the easy way out.

  Her mother and father had taught her be responsible for her actions and do the right thing.

  Agreeing to the article had been
a mistake. Her decision to step away from it had been the right move. But doing it via a text was wrong. Stella owed Jane the courtesy of a phone conversation.

  As she dialed the managing editor’s cell number, Stella found herself wondering whether Jane would answer. It was, after all, a Saturday night, and Jane had a very active social life. Not necessarily with people she liked, but rather with those she felt she could use in some way.

  Stella wondered whether that would have been her destiny if she’d stayed in Miami. Would she have become as jaded and cynical as Jane?

  She couldn’t see that happening here in Holly Pointe.

  “Hello.” There was a coolness to the greeting that had Stella’s stomach churning.

  “Jane. This is Stella.” Her fingers felt suddenly slick around her phone. She shifted the phone to her other hand and wiped her sweaty palm against her shirt. “If this isn’t a good time, I can—”

  “This is an excellent time. Give me a minute.” Instead of muting the call, Jane must have turned to her companion. “Tom, I need to take this call. It’s business. Be a dear and get me a glass of champagne.”

  Then she was back, and her tone was all business. “I admit I was stunned when I received your text. It caught me completely off guard. I had to read it twice.”

  “I don’t believe—” Stella stopped herself and rephrased. “I’m not able to write the article you want. I wanted to let you know that now and not wait until the last minute.”

  “I’m confused. You and I discussed the various issues you’d be including in your article, and I wholeheartedly concurred with the avenues you were exploring.” Jane paused. “In fact, I was excited and couldn’t wait to receive the article and pictures. I thought you were excited as well. Then, out of the blue, I get your text. What changed?”

  Stella closed her eyes and realized she’d done Jane even more of a disservice than she imagined. Not only had she accepted the assignment, she’d led Jane on.

  Never once, other than to reiterate that she would need to have facts to back up anything she wrote, had she mentioned just how uncomfortable she was slanting the article toward the sensational.

  “I’ve never been comfortable with sensationalized journalism.” Stella hurried on before Jane could jump in and defend the track that she had sent the paper down. “I realize it’s a tough market for newspapers nowadays, and I also understand you were brought in to shore up the bottom line. Lots of people prefer sensationalized news, and many reporters love to do the spin. I’ve come to realize that I’m just not one of them.”

  “I see.”

  There was a wealth of feeling behind those two words, and Stella’s heart rate took a jump, but she forced a calm that she didn’t feel as she responded.

  “I will fulfill the terms of the contract by submitting the article to you by the specified date. If there are changes that I feel comfortable making that will make the article more agreeable to you, I’ll do that. But I will not be including anything about Drunk Santa, Dustin Bellamy and Krista Ankrom, or Britt Elliott.”

  “You’re planning on giving me a fluff piece.” A hard edge had crept into Jane’s tone. If Stella were in Jane’s office now, she knew the editor’s eyes would hold a steely gleam.

  “I’m planning on giving you a well-written piece about Holly Pointe and what makes it special.” Stella fought to keep her tone matter of fact and professional. “I believe readers who are looking for uplifting articles around the holidays will love it.”

  “I’ll expect to see it in on time. We’ll go from there.”

  “Yes, I’ll—” Stella paused, then held out her phone at the silence on the other end. She frowned.

  Jane had hung up on her.

  “Well, that could have gone better.” Stella spoke to the empty apartment as she began to pace. Of course, it could have gone worse.

  Had she really expected Jane to applaud her for standing up for her convictions?

  Her father would have.

  Stella stopped before the framed photo of her parents. She picked it up and held it at eye level, gazing at the smiling faces. “You didn’t raise me to be the type of person to betray a friend. You raised me to care about others. Even if these people weren’t my friends, I’m not a gossip columnist. I went into journalism to bring the truth to light, to make the world a better place.”

  For one crazy second, Stella swore she saw her father nod.

  This wasn’t about doing what her parents thought was right. Or what Sam or her other friends in Holly Pointe thought was right. This was about her following her own conscience.

  She would give the managing editor the best article she could write and do justice to this community that had stolen her heart.

  Only then would she be able to enjoy Christmas and the upcoming Mistletoe Ball with the man she loved without a dark cloud hanging overhead.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The knock at her door an hour later had Stella’s gaze jerking away from her computer screen. She’d started and restarted the article on Holly Pointe but couldn’t seem to get the feel she was after. Shutting her laptop, she hurried to the door.

  She was about to open it without looking, then chided herself. Despite the fact that this was Holly Pointe, where people left car keys dangling from vehicle ignitions and house keys under the front doormat, she’d lived in a big city.

  Caution was always a good thing.

  Stella glanced through the peephole, and her heart leaped. She eagerly unlocked the door, pulled it open, and smiled at Sam. “Couldn’t stay away?”

  He glanced at the pink flannel pajamas covered in penguins that she’d donned after he’d left and lifted his hands. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a pretty woman in penguins.”

  She laughed and stepped aside, motioning him through the doorway. “I take it the roads are bad.”

  He nodded and lifted a questioning brow. “Does the offer of a place to stay still stand?”

  “Absolutely.” She held out her hands and took his hat and scarf, watching him shrug out of the heavy winter coat. “Would you like some hot cocoa?”

  Surprise skittered across his face. “You have some?”

  “Actually, once you left, I had this craving for the real stuff, so I made some in the Crock-Pot.”

  “Sounds . . . fabulous.”

  She felt Sam’s eyes on her as she moved to the tiny kitchenette and removed two cups from the cupboard.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Stella turned to smile at him. “You can have a seat on the sofa and tell me if you’d like a dash of peppermint schnapps added to your cup.”

  At his look of surprise, she continued.

  “When I was at the store, I saw the bottle and thought of my grandpa.” Stella set the mugs on the counter, her lips curving up at the memory of her somewhat stern German grandfather and his love of schnapps. “I had to buy it.”

  “I did the same recently with spearmint candy canes.” Sam dropped down on the overstuffed couch. “Kevin loved them. Me, not so much. But when I saw a package at the market, I had to pick them up.”

  Their eyes met, and Stella savored the moment of shared understanding.

  She lifted the festive red mug, now filled with cocoa. “It’s decision time. Schnapps? Whipped cream? Both?”

  “Both.” He heaved an exaggerated breath. “This is much better than being stuck in some snow drift.”

  “That’s a pretty low bar you’ve set, Mr. Johnson.” Stella chuckled as she handed him the mug, then took a seat beside him on the sofa. “How bad were the roads?”

  Sam took a sip of the hot cocoa and sighed. “This tastes amazing.”

  She sipped her own and had to agree.

  “The roads are horrible. The snow is coming down at a good clip, but it’s the winds that make travel treacherous. There was no way I could make it.”

  “What about the horses?” Stella settled comfortably against the back of the sofa, her fingers wrapped around the warm
cup. “Will they be okay?”

  “I don’t like the fact that they’ll have to stay in their stalls, but the ones they’re in are large enough for them to move and turn around and even lie down in.”

  Then, as if anticipating her next question, he added. “When I took over their care, I installed automatic feeders and waterers in their stalls. While I like to monitor their intake and let them out for periods of time—even in this type of weather—they’ll be okay.”

  “That has to be load off your mind.”

  “As you’ve already observed, the weather here can be unpredictable. You have to be prepared for any eventuality.” Sam slanted a sideways glance in her direction. “I’m sure it seems like a rugged existence to a big-city Florida gal.”

  “Not really.”

  At his skeptical look, she smiled and continued. “It’s different, but I’ve discovered I prefer this to the muggy heat of Miami. As long as I’m dressed properly, the cold doesn’t bother me.” She shifted in her seat to more fully face him, slipping a leg under herself on the sofa. “When it’s stifling hot, there’s only so many clothes you can take off. Here, if you feel chilled, you just add another layer.”

  His gaze traveled lazily over her, and her entire body began to vibrate. “Do you expect me to believe you could actually see yourself living in Holly Pointe?”

  Her lips curved over the rim of her mug. “What, is that so difficult?”

  “Well, aside from the climate, it’s not exactly the mecca of culture.”

  Stella bolted upright, her cocoa sloshing precariously close to the rim of her cup. “Don’t talk about your community that way.”

  Surprise flickered in his brown eyes. “What do you mean?”

  The intensity of the emotion coursing through her shocked Stella. It was as if someone had called her baby ugly. “Holly Pointe is a wonderful town. When that publication called it the capital of Christmas kindness, they were on target. I’ve never been in a community where people so readily accept a stranger. Not only accept, they go out of their way to help and make that person feel welcome. As far as culture, there’s more to do here than in most larger towns. And if a person wants to listen to a symphony or watch a touring Broadway show, you can drive an hour and a half to Burlington and make a night of it.”