Page 47 of Holly, Jolly, and Oh So Naughty

We work until the last two cakes are in the oven and then exhaustion brings us to a sweaty, tired heap on the floor.

“Damn,” I pant softly. “Who knew baking that much so fast would be so exhausting.”

“I’m impressed,” James says, and his shoulder rests against mine while we lean back against the cabinets. “You usually do all of this by yourself?”

“I usually have much more time,” I say. “I plan ahead for things. Well, things that aren’t break-ins.”

“Have the police gotten any leads?”

I shake my head. “They think it was some teen trying to be edgy or something. I just need the insurance to clear and I’ll be happy.”

“I bet that will take some time.”

I groan softly, gazing up at the oven while breathing in the warm, doughy smell of freshly baked cakes. “Especially at this time of year. Christmas is two weeks away and no one cares about working. Anyway, you were talking about your mother?”

“Oh.” James’s face falls slightly and he purses his lips. “I guess… if I’m honest, coming here was a split-second decision. I just woke up a few nights after my father had passed, and I just knew. I knew I was in the wrong place. I don’t regret it. Coming here was the best decision I ever made. A new job, a fresh start. New place, new faces.”

I study him as he talks. His face, while pained, is relaxed and honest, but one glaring question arises from his story. “Why here?”

“Why?” James meets my gaze. “Well… I could tell you that I found the job in the paper and applied, knowing I was overqualified and that I would get it instantly. Or I could tell you the truth.”

“Which is?” I wet my lips, and James’s eyes dart down to my mouth.

“I came here for you.”

“Me?”

“You.”

“How did you know I was here?” When we met in my parents’ inn, James appeared really surprised to see me. Now he’s saying he came here for me?

“I Googled you. Or rather, I reached out to a friend who knew how to find people, gave them as much as I could remember about you, and they found you within ten minutes. Which Iknow sounds like I’m some crazy stalker, but I…” He hesitates, and his brow dips as if mulling over something important.

Honestly, I’m flattered. I’ve thought about James every single day since we parted because of Emma. But after how we left things and how he sent his mother to speak to me when I tried to tell him about my pregnancy, it never occurred to me that he would think about me.

I thought I was nothing more than a distant, bad memory.

“You were the only person, Lily. The only person in my entire life who looked at me and saw me. It felt like you saw through all the bullshit and the rules and the glaze of my parents and saw the real me underneath it all. And then you treated me like a real person. After my father’s funeral, I just suddenly craved that more than I’d craved anything else in my life.”

“Wow,” I breathe softly. “I didn’t think you even remembered me. You left so abruptly.” It hangs in the air, the option to talk about how we left things, the possibility of the entire truth, but James is so pained that perhaps it’s too much right now. “So,” I add, gently changing topics. “Why didn’t you ever come and see me?”

“I was scared,” he admits quietly. “I saw you with your family and your successful business, and how beautiful you looked, and I realized that I had been so selfish. I had come here, needing to see you without thinking about your own life. So I stayed back because I just… I just wanted to be in your presence. For me, that was enough.”

“And now?” My heart starts to race and a different kind of heat warms my skin when James locks eyes with me.

“Now I… I don’t think it’s enough. I know it’s not enough. You’re intoxicating, Lily, and I wish I had woken up and realized it a lot sooner.”

“Me too,” I whisper. I’m unsure what I’m trying to say, and a warning blares in the back of my mind that it’s dangerous to get involved with James beyond what we’ve already done.

But it’s too late.

Maybe it’s the coziness of the kitchen, the magic of the storm, or just years of unresolved feelings, but when James leans in and drops his eyes to my lips, I can’t resist.

He leans in closer, and just as we breathe the same air, I lean forward too and meet him in the middle with a gentle kiss.

18

JAMES

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