CHAPTER NINETEEN

Breakfast was served. The kitchen was cleaned. The guests were all off doing various things and seemingly happy.

The bell above the B&B door sang out, and in walked Paris in his usual black jeans. Instead of a black shirt, today he wore a festive red-and-black checked, button-down flannel. The transformation from biker to mountain man had begun.

“Hey,” he said.

Kaitlyn smiled. “Hey. How’s it going at Ms. Hamilton’s?”

Paris frowned as he placed his laptop on the coffee table in the living room. “Let’s just say I miss you and this inn. And I mean that in a completely platonic kind of way. I don’t want to get on Mitch’s wrong side again.”

Kaitlyn laughed as she scooted over for him to take a seat beside her. “You were never on his wrong side.”

Paris grunted and sat down. “He didn’t like me when I first got here. I get it. He saw me as a threat on his territory.”

“I doubt that. If Mitch had it his way, this inn never would’ve been his territory.”

“I wasn’t talking about the B and B.” Paris gave her a sidelong wink and then pulled the laptop to him. “So, I think I have a handle on what you want. I put this together late last night. If you don’t like it, be honest.”

“I will.” She nodded, bubbling with anticipation. She’d hired Paris to help with some promotional materials for the bed and breakfast early last week. She would have reached out to him regardless, but after looking at his website, she’d fallen in love with his work. Who knew her first guest had been such a graphics whiz?

He tapped a few keys and pulled up a design he’d prepared for the B&B with the name written in a fancy yellow script. Purple-toned mountains rose behind the words. It was simple, tasteful, and she didn’t want to blink.

“It’s perfect.” She stared at the image until it blurred. Even then, it was gorgeous. “I mean it,” she said, finally looking over. “I love everything about it.”

He smiled gratefully. “I can tweak it if there’s something you want to play up or down.”

“Paris, this is even better than I had envisioned. It’ll look amazing on the front of a brochure. You are very talented. Thank you so much.” She leaned in and gave him a huge hug.

“It was nothing. Really. And I’m serious,” he teased, pulling away. “I don’t want to be on the other side of Mitch’s fist if he walks in on us.”

Kaitlyn swatted Paris’s shoulder. “Don’t be silly. How much do I owe you?” Whatever it was, it was worth every penny.

Paris shook his head. “Merry Christmas, Kaitlyn. I may have been your first guest here, but you were my first friend.”

Her mouth dropped open, and emotion gripped her, strong and fierce. “I can’t accept something so nice.”

“You can, and you will. Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s rude to turn down a gift?”

Kaitlyn drew a hand to her chest, so touched by his gesture. “Well, I got you something as well. Nothing nearly as generous as your graphic design, but I did want to give you a gift.” She hurried over to the Christmas tree in the corner, where Paris’s present was wrapped in shiny silver paper with a large red bow. “Merry Christmas, Paris,” she said, handing it over.

He took his time opening it, and it occurred to her that maybe Paris didn’t receive too many presents. He’d grown up in the foster care system. He didn’t have family, and he was new in town. This might be the only present he got this year.

“It’s not much,” she explained, once Dawanda’s fudge was revealed.

“Are you kidding? Dawanda’s fudge is the stuff that wish lists are made of.” He grinned and stood. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And Paris, if you don’t have any plans, please feel free to come over here for Christmas breakfast. I haven’t decided on the final menu yet but it’ll be festive and you’re always welcome here.”

“Sounds good. I’ll even wear my Santa hat,” he promised as he started to pack up his computer. “I’ll send you the final graphic tonight.”

“Great.”

Kaitlyn walked him to the door and then turned as the phone began to ring.

“Uh-oh,” Paris said. “Looks like more guests are calling to book their stay.”

“I hope so. We’re full over Christmas already. But there’s always room for one more for breakfast. Don’t forget,” she told him.

“I won’t.”

Kaitlyn closed the front door behind him and then ran to catch the phone. “Sweetwater Bed and Breakfast. Can I help you?”

“Yes. Is this Kaitlyn Russo? Mable Russo’s granddaughter?” a woman asked on the other end.

“Yes, it is.”

“Hi there. This is Summer Rivera. We met at your grandmother’s funeral a few months ago. Do you remember? I heard you took over the B and B. How is it going?” she asked in one long string of words.

“Fine, thank you.” Kaitlyn struggled to recall meeting anyone by the name of Summer Rivera. There’d been so many people at Mable’s funeral though. It’d been a whirlwind day, and she’d shaken a hundred different hands. Then she’d immediately flown back to New York, never dreaming that she’d be dropping everything and moving here only a month later.

“Well, I was calling to officially welcome you to town and to see if you would be carrying on your grandmother’s generous tradition of donating cakes to the Hope for the Holidays Auction.”

Kaitlyn twirled her finger in the cord of the phone. “Oh. I’m afraid I don’t know anything about that.”

“The Hope for the Holidays Auction is something the town puts on every year. We choose a family in need and auction off all kinds of things, including your grandmother’s homemade cakes. They were always very popular at the auctions.”

“Oh.” Kaitlyn leaned back against the wall. “Well, I can guarantee I’m nowhere near as good a baker as my grandmother, but I’ll certainly agree to making a couple cakes for the cause.”

“Terrific!” Summer cheered. “This year we’re supporting a single mother with cancer. Mable usually made at least ten.”

“Ten?” Kaitlyn repeated, wondering if she’d heard correctly.

“At least, but often more than that because they brought in so much money for charity. And her gingerbread cheesecake was the most popular. If you could make a few of those, that would be spectacular.”

Gingerbread cheesecake? “Well, I’m…well…” Protests stuck in Kaitlyn’s throat. How could she possibly refuse to donate to a charity her grandmother had supported? “Okay,” she finally said. “I’m sure I can make that happen.”

“Oh splendid. You are a dear, just like Mable always said. The auction is next Wednesday. I’ll be in touch.”

*  *  *

The movies Mitch liked the best were the ones with a ticking time clock. Time ticked down and the hero, Daniel Craig, Jason Statham, or any one of those action stars—to exclude Bradley Foster, whom he’d never liked—had to race to some sort of finish line to save the world.

Mitch had his own ticking time clock, and it was nowhere near as exciting. It’d been over twenty-four hours, and Brian hadn’t called him. He didn’t want Mitch here, and Mitch respected that. Mitch couldn’t deny that he had feelings for Kaitlyn though. Deeper feelings than he’d ever had for any woman before. Was he just supposed to walk away?

He pulled into the parking lot of the Sweetwater PD and waved at Tammy as he walked inside.

“Hold on. Alex wants to speak to you,” she said.

“What about?”

“Dunno. It’s never good when the boss summons you though.”

Mitch slapped a hand on her desk playfully. “Unless the boss also happens to be your best friend.” He headed down the hall to Alex’s office and offered a courtesy rap on the door before pushing it open. “You summoned?” he said dryly.

“Yeah. Hey, Mitch.” Alex leaned back in his chair. As usual, he was dressed in a nice button-down shirt and a pair of faded jeans. Chiefs didn’t have to wear the uniform if they didn’t want to. Mitch was jealous of that. After all his years in the marine corps, he didn’t much like uniforms. Even so, he supposed he’d be wearing one at his security job next month too.

“I’m still here for another week.” Mitch plopped in the chair in front of Alex’s desk. “If you tell me you don’t need me anymore just because the Sweetwater Springs thief has been caught, you and I are going to have words.”

Alex stared at him. “I’m not letting you go. In fact, I’m trying to keep you. Jackson Curtis resigned this morning.”

“What? Why would he do a thing like that?”

Alex shrugged. “Well, between you and me, Jackson is going to ask his girlfriend to marry him. And she doesn’t like the idea of marrying a man in this line of work.”

Mitch laughed out loud. “Really? It would be different if we were in a big city but this is Sweetwater. Our most sought-after criminal is a seventeen-year-old boy trying to save his mom from cancer. I’d hardly call this a dangerous job.” At least not compared to what he’d been up against as an MPO.

Alex leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been shot at,” he said. “I’ve had a knife pulled on me. I mean, yeah, it was a ninety-year-old woman wielding the knife but she could’ve done some serious damage.” Alex cracked a grin. “This life isn’t for everyone. I always knew I wanted to grow up and be in law enforcement just like my dad.”

Mitch nodded, remembering well how Alex had wanted nothing more than to play a good game of cops and robbers growing up. Mitch had played right alongside him. Mable had always joked that they’d been cut from the same cloth.

“And I always knew for me that would mean not getting involved with someone.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, man,” Mitch argued, sitting across from Alex.

“I watched how my dad’s long hours here at the station affected my mom. I promised myself, when I decided this was the career I wanted, I would leave relationships to everyone else. That’s just me. Most of the other employees here are happily married, and I’m happy for them.”

Mitch shook his head. “I give up. Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because I want to offer you a job. Probably not as exciting as the security contract you have lined up in Virginia, but I know you and Kaitlyn have something good going. Thought you might consider staying awhile longer. We could use a guy like you. Especially now.”

Mitch didn’t say anything for a long moment.

The thought had already been niggling around in the back of his mind. He’d tried to ignore it because of the promise he’d made to the Eversons.

“Just say you’ll consider it,” Alex pressed.

Mitch gave a small nod. “I’ll consider it.”

“Great. That’s halfway to a yes.”

“Or halfway to a no, depending on how you look at it.”

Alex pointed a finger. “I’m an optimist when it suits me. Now, get to work, Officer Hargrove. Sweetwater needs you. And if you see a ninety-year-old woman with a knife, heed my warning and take her seriously.”

Mitch chuckled as he stood up. “Will do, Chief.”

*  *  *

“Don’t worry about the cakes,” Gina told Kaitlyn a couple days later as they sat across the table from each other. “I’ll come over on Wednesday morning and help you. I have Mable’s gingerbread cheesecake recipe too.”

Kaitlyn slid a cup of peppermint tea in front of Mitch’s mother, who’d stopped by after cleaning one of the neighbor’s homes. “Really? I won’t turn down the help, if you’re offering.”

Gina chuckled. “I know your grandmother has big shoes to fill but Mable didn’t do all of these things on her own, you know. She had help. Mine and Mitch’s. Townspeople stopped in to give her a hand too after Henry died.”

Kaitlyn grabbed a cookie off a plate that she’d set out for the guests. “Thank you. For everything. I’m not sure what I would’ve done without you and Mitch these last couple of months.”

“Well, I’m sticking around so don’t worry about that.”

Mitch, on the other hand, wasn’t sticking around, and they both seemed to know it. Even if Kaitlyn was still a tad bit in denial over that fact.

“What’s that over there?” Gina asked, gesturing toward a wooden pallet that Kaitlyn had picked up outside the grocery store the other day. She’d covered it with chalkboard paint and hung it on the wall.

“I made that to display movie choices for the guests. Movie nights in the ballroom are popular lately. Not everyone comes down but some do. Mable and Henry had quite the collection of films too. I thought I’d let the guests start voting between a couple of choices.”

“Well, you are as smart as you are creative. I love the idea.”

“Thanks.” Kaitlyn smiled to herself, taking another bite of cookie. At Beautiful Designs, her ideas had always been shot down by her boss. Here, there was no one to tell her what she could or couldn’t do. With her newfound freedom, her ideas seemed to be flowing faster than she could jot them down in her little notebook.

Gina pushed back from the table. “Thanks for the tea, dear, but I better head back to the house and see what Nettie is up to.”

“How long is your sister-in-law in town for?”

“Oh, at least through Christmas,” Gina said, grabbing one more cookie. “Honestly, it’s been nice having her around. I’ve resorted to talking to myself over the years, which I guess could be considered a little crazy. Now I still talk to myself but there’s someone else in the room. Makes me feel a little less off my rocker.”

Kaitlyn laughed as she followed Gina to the door. “I’ve always heard talking to yourself is a sign of intelligence.”

“Really?” Gina looked intrigued. “Well, I’ll see you bright and early on Wednesday. We’ll make a day of it. It’ll be fun.”

“Sounds perfect.” Kaitlyn hugged Gina and then watched her head down the steps. There was a marked chill in the air from earlier. The forecast was calling for snow in the next week. Just in time for Christmas. And who knows? Maybe if it snowed hard enough, Mitch would have to stay a tad bit longer.

With a brrrrr, Kaitlyn closed the door, barring out the chill. She started toward the fireplace to stoke the flames but stopped short when she heard a crash upstairs. It’d come from the Anne of Green Gables room.

Another crash jolted Kaitlyn where she stood. Then she took off running. Even from the bottom step, she could hear the raised voices.

“It’s okay,” Kaitlyn assured one of the other guests, who was peeking outside her door at the commotion. She wasn’t sure if that was the truth or not. Her steps quickened as she heard a choice word puncture the air. “Ladies! What’s going on?” Kaitlyn asked as she entered the room.

Doris Manchester, an older woman who wore a visible hearing aid, pointed a shaky finger across the room at Sally Huddleston, the guest whom Kaitlyn had checked into the Gone With the Wind room yesterday morning. “I told that woman her guitar playing was bothering me.”

“Well, I paid for a room just like you,” Ms. Huddleston said. Ms. Huddleston was probably in her early fifties. If Kaitlyn remembered correctly, she was a music teacher at a private school in Ohio. “That means I get to play my instrument anytime I want.”

“But I paid for a room and I came here for some peace and quiet.”

“Then turn your hearing aid off!” Ms. Huddleston shot back.

Ms. Manchester’s mouth fell open. Then both women turned to look at Kaitlyn as if waiting for her to make things right.

Kaitlyn looked between them, her mouth gaping open too. She had no idea how to fix the situation.

“If she plays her guitar one more time, I’m going to march into her room and break the damn thing,” Ms. Manchester threatened.

Ms. Huddleston gasped as if the other woman had tossed a toad in her direction.

Kaitlyn held up her hands. “Hold on, ladies. I’m sure we can work this out.”

“I want another room away from this woman,” Ms. Manchester demanded.

“Fine by me,” Ms. Huddleston said. “And if you touch my guitar, I’m going to call the police.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I certainly would,” Ms. Huddleston promised.

At that very moment, a Sweetwater Springs police officer just happened to walk into the room.

*  *  *

“I heard the voices from the front door,” Mitch said. He’d taken the steps two at a time when he’d walked in and heard the commotion. “Is everything okay?”

Kaitlyn blew out a long breath. “Oh, you know, just a little disagreement,” she said, even though her voice sounded tight.

“No.” Ms. Manchester turned to Mitch and jabbed a finger in the air at Ms. Huddleston. “That woman threatened me. Lock her up!”

“I did no such thing,” Ms. Huddleston huffed. “She said she was going to break my guitar!”

Mitch tossed a sideward glance at Kaitlyn. “Do we have any rooms that we could move one of these nice ladies to?”

“We’re full,” Kaitlyn said, looking completely flustered.

“I see.” He poked his tongue at the side of his cheek as he tried to think. There was no good solution, which was sometimes the case. These two women either had to stick it out in neighboring rooms or one of them had to leave. “Well, if either of you are unsatisfied with your stay here, you can feel free to leave and your stay so far will be at no cost.” They’d both already stayed one night so this seemed like a deal to Mitch.

“I’m not leaving,” Ms. Huddleston said.

“Neither am I,” Ms. Manchester added. “I read about this B and B in a magazine. This is a romantic holiday experience, and I’m old. I could die at any moment. I need romance.”

Kaitlyn stifled a laugh.

Mitch frowned at her. Laughing at an angry old lady was never wise. He remembered Alex’s warning about avoiding old ladies with sharp knives. He quickly assessed whether Ms. Manchester had one.

“Do you think that you could play your guitar in another room?” Kaitlyn asked. Her question was hesitant as if she was concerned the women were going to turn on her at any moment.

Ms. Huddleston cocked her head to the side. “And where would that be?”

“Well, the ballroom is empty during the day. You can feel free to play guitar in there. There’s even a nice couch set up along the wall.”

“I suppose I would be agreeable to that.”

“Great,” Mitch said, grasping on to her agreement. He was, after all, a man, and men liked to find solutions to problems. “Would you like me to carry your instrument down for you?”

Ms. Huddleston’s eyes widened. “No one touches my instrument except me.”

Mitch took a step backward. “No problem.” He was just happy the standoff had been mediated. As he walked back through the populated hall, he spoke to the guests. “Everything is fine. Please go back to relaxing and enjoying your stay here.”

“Wow.” Kaitlyn grinned at him. “That sounds like something an actual bed-and-breakfast host would say.”

“I’m nowhere near a B and B host but I did get offered a job today.”

Kaitlyn was matching his every step down the stairs. She paused at the landing. “Alex?”

“Yep.”

“I’m not surprised.”

Excitement swam through him. Then the memory of Brian Everson sending him away snubbed out that feeling. “I’m not sure I can accept the offer.”

Kaitlyn’s expression turned crestfallen. “But you love working there. And you and Alex are friends. It would be a dream come true if I could work with my best friend, Josie, every day.”

“I don’t know. Seeing Alex daily might drive me crazy.” He was only teasing, of course, and deflecting from the real issue. Alex was a great guy, a true friend, and he’d be a good boss too. “I told him I’d think about it.”

Kaitlyn’s face brightened just a touch. “I hope you do.”

He and Kaitlyn had never discussed him staying before, and she’d never let on that she wanted him to stay. But right now, seeing the hope shine through her eyes, he thought maybe she did.

“Did you cast your vote yet?” Kaitlyn asked then.

“Vote?”

“It’s movie night. I hung a chalkboard in the dining room this morning with some options for movies to watch tonight. I asked the guests to cast their votes.”

“You are full of ideas, aren’t you?” He lifted a finger to slide a hair away from her cheek, locking it behind her ear. Just that simple touch made his fingers itch for more. He wasn’t sure he would ever get enough of the woman standing in front of him.

“Just feeling inspired these days,” she said, almost shyly. “There’s something about this town and the people. It’s impossible not to fall in love with it all.” Her gaze hung on his.

She was talking about the town and the people. Not him. But she was looking at him with those bedroom eyes that inspired the hell out of him. He’d taken this thing between Kaitlyn and him too far, half of him thought. The other half protested that he hadn’t taken it far enough. Not yet.

The silence of his phone in his pocket was deafening. Come on, Brian. Call! he silently pleaded as he looked at Kaitlyn. Please call.