Page 39 of A Taste of Christmas Magic

“I feel like you put a spell on me,” Rustin said slowly.

His statement was totally unexpected, and Chloe had no answer.

“Since the night you cooked the practice entrée for the Movable Feast.”

“You mumbled something about a spell or a curse when you ran out.” She remembered his odd behavior. “But what do you mean? I just followed the recipe.”

He opened his mouth, and she leaned forward, wondering what he would say next. The Wild Side rose above the river, lights glowing, a door rolled up so the crowd, noise and music drifted into the night, but it was a pleasant hum, almost a bubble of humanity floating above them and away on the chilly breeze.

A smile teased his lips. “Yeah, recipe follower. That’s it. No witchcraft involved.”

“Definitely not,” Chloe said, thinking how Grandma Millie would cross herself if she’d heard him say that. “I don’t have a black cat, but…” she paused. “The bookiscalledSouthern Love Spells.” She hummed the music fromThe Twilight Zone.

“You’re not funny.”

“You were going to show me something,” Chloe invited, not ready for the alone time to end. The next few weeks would be so busy for them both, and once his restaurant opened, he’d be working long nights, and she’d be back in her classroom teaching days, directing her choir, and seeing vocal students a couple nights a week.

“I am,” he said. “Crazy idea. An impulse that I purchased for a different reason a couple of years ago, but the more I think about it and adjust to the idea and free-range menu options, it may be a stroke of luck.”

“We make our own luck.”

“Can’t disagree with that idea,” he said. Holding her hand, he walked farther away from The Wild Side and the party.

Chloe felt like she’d never experienced a more perfect moment. He brought her hand to his lips.

“So finely made. Delicate. But such strength,” he breathed against her skin, sending her tummy tumbling.

No.Thoseseven words were the best thing anyone had ever said to her, and she hugged the words to her heart, committing them to memory to take out and savor later.

“Show me,” Chloe invited. She hadn’t expected the vintage Airstream trailer.

“Wow, this is cool!” Chloe exclaimed.

The trailer was parked farther down the trail in the Catawba Riverfront Park, which was closed and under renovation as part of the Riverwalk project.

“Do you live in this?” she asked, beyond curious. She hadn’t thought about the practicalities of Rustin’s life. After his long hours renovating Millie’s into The Wild Side and perfecting his menus, where did he lay his head at night?

“I did a few times. I renovated the trailer with Lucas. It was his idea. Initially, I thought we could live in it to save rent money when I started my own restaurant in Charlotte, but Lucas had bigger plans. He thought it could be a food truck, save us money instead of going the brick-and-mortar route.”

“Brilliant,” Chloe enthused.

“I didn’t want a food truck. I wanted my own destination. To create an experience with the food and drinks and ambiance.”

She smiled. So Rustin.

“This could be a pop-up, though,” she said as she explored the small, efficient kitchen. “I love this.” She opened the awning-style window that worked as a counter where people could see into the trailer and kitchen. “If you cut a hole in the other side like this one, you could serve specialty food items on one side and turn the other side into a bar. There’s room for three people to work in here, Chef,” she smiled. She pretended to be working and wiggled her butt near him as if to prove there was space. “Food prep, order-taker/server, and then a bartender on the other side. This could be a fun way to cater an event, or you could have a presence in the community—farmer’s market or…hey…” She snapped her fingers. “The Christmas Market! Waffles and fried chicken, and then mulled wine, cocktails, drinks for the kids. Hot chocolate slathered in whipped cream. ‘Welcome to The Wild Side, y’all.’ All you need is an awning with some party lights and a crew to boss.” She pointed to herself. “Sign me up.”

“You want to help.” He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching her closely.

She nodded.

“Rebekah thought we should have a presence at the Christmas Market in Belmont and the light festival in McAdenville the following weekend.”

Chloe felt a little embarrassed. Of course, Rebekah was in marketing and managment. She’d be thinking months in advance. It was her job.

“You’re going to do it, right?”

“Thinking on it. Fried chicken and waffles, huh?”

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