Page 2 of A Taste of Christmas Magic

“What is he,Voldemort?” Chloe rolled her eyes and shifted her focus back to Rustin—a much more enjoyable view than Jessica’s peevish pout. Even from yards away, Chloe could see the flex of muscle in Rustin’s forearms and part of a tat as he loaded tubs of dirty dishes into racks in the back of a black van.

She sighed in pleasure. He’d always moved like water. And his focus was hot. Even from here, she could see that his rangy frame had filled out: broad shoulders, narrow waist, tight butt, and long legs.

Yes, please.

Not that Rustin Wildish would ever notice her. She was small and unremarkable and considered the “odd Maye.” Not even a Maye by blood but a charity child Miss Millie Maye had generously raised.

“What’s he doing here?” Jessica again demanded as she peered around the tree then spun back and flattened herself against the trunk like they were playing hide-and-seek.

Jessica had already changed out of her medieval costume. Chloe had forgotten where she’d stashed her bag of street clothes.

“Jessica, you’re overreacting.”

“Overreacting? Oh, dear Lord.” Jessica crossed herself and Chloe crossed her eyes. “Rustin Wildish is back in Belmont.”

“I know,” Chloe said, devouring Rustin with her hungry gaze. “He looks as delicious as his stew.”

Jessica made a weird choking sound that made Chloe laugh, but she noticed, Jessica too still stared at Rustin who’d kept the rumor mill full of grist since kindergarten. Grandma Millie joined Rustin. She was tall, slim, and spry even in her late seventies. She paced beside him as he toted dirty dishes, her ringed fingers weaving in the air as she no doubt detailed another long list of directions for him to carry out. She’d always worked her employees and volunteers hard, but fairly.

Wow, even the way Rustin cocks his head and listens is sexy.

“Unbelievable,” Jessica said and glared as if scandalized. She looked at that moment, exactly like her mother, and Chloe laughed, hoping to help Jessica snap out of her unusual judgey mood.

“C’mon. It’s funny. Same as when we were kids. You, shocked by all things Rustin Wildish, and me, sneaking around and spying on him.”

Chloe had been fascinated by Rustin. She saw through his impressive brood to the hardworking boy who wanted to be the man to pull his family out of the dark and cold of poverty. Most everyone else in town had fueled the dismissive rumors about generations of lazy, addicted criminals and skanks of the Wildish clan. But even the worst gossips couldn’t deny the Wildish men were panty-flaming hot.

Jessica peeked around the tree trunk again.

“What is Grandma Millie thinking? He shouldn’t even be in North Carolina, much less Belmont!”

“He’s using the skills that Grandma Millie taught him to help the college.” Chloe felt her patience slip. “Why are you being so rude?”

“He’s probably stealing from Grandma Millie.”

“Dirty dishes?” Chloe loved Jessica, but she’d always been way too critical of Rustin. “Please. He worked for Grandma Millie for years as a kid. She taught him how to be a chef. He’s volunteering, which is an homage to his…”

“A chef,” Jessica interrupted and rolled her beautiful green eyes. “He was a dishwasher and left town without graduating high school.”

“He went to culinary school,” Chloe defended.

“How do you know that?” Jessica crossed her arms, her expression tight with disapproval. Color slashed across her high cheekbones. “Rustin is trouble just like his whole family tree.”

“That is not fair, Jessica, and you know it.”

“He’s bad news,” Jessica insisted.

The critical behavior was so unlike Jessica that Chloe stared at her, mind whirling. What was the cause of her intense dislike? To Chloe’s knowledge, Jessica hadn’t seen Rustin since high school. She sounded more like her father, Sean Ryan Maye, than her usual thoughtful, kind self.

“Don’t crush on him again, Chloe. Steer clear. He’ll smash your heart.”

“Like there’s a chance of that happening,” she said good-naturedly. If she had a chance with Rustin, she’d willingly risk any level of heartbreak.

“Seriously, Chloe, steer clear.” Jessica gave her a quick, fierce hug. “You’re so sweet you give everyone the benefit of the doubt. You don’t know what Rustin’s like.”

“You do?” Her interest flared.

Jessica took a step back, her leaf-green eyes wide in her creamy white skin. “Of course not.”

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