Christmas Comes to Main Street by Olivia Miles Page A

that gut-churning feeling every time they gathered for the holiday, and the memories that haunted him, shadowing what should be a festive event. Instead, he was now caught up in the spirit of the season at every turn. And, if his aunt had any say in it, from every angle.
    â€œWell, Christmas is a very big deal in Briar Creek. And in case you haven’t noticed, your aunt takes it very seriously.”
    â€œOh, I’ve noticed.” He laughed, thinking of the bags of decorations she’d triumphantly found at the Holiday Bazaar. Tonight they’d continue their efforts of transforming the house. With any luck, they could knock it out in a few hours and be done with it.
    â€œLet me just wipe down a few tables and then I’ll show you the gingerbread house. I didn’t want to box it up in case you had any changes.”
    â€œSounds good.” He watched as she came around the corner, the pull of her gray wool skirt accentuating her subtle curves. Her long legs were covered in black tights, and for a moment he could almost imagine peeling them off, running his hands over her smooth, creamy legs, his gaze latching with those electric blue eyes.
    He swallowed hard against the desire that built as she bent over a table to wipe it with a rag, giving him a full view of her perfect backside. He could have stared at her all day, if he wasn’t suddenly distracted by the jingling of bells over the door as a new round of customers came in.
    â€œI’ll be right with you,” Kara said pleasantly as she walked over to clean another table.
    Nate frowned, resisting the urge to check his watch to see how long it would take her to attend to the people who stood slightly impatiently at the counter beside him. Finally, Kara came back around the corner, a stack of dishes in her hand, her smile broad but her cheeks flushed. She was flustered, and why shouldn’t she be? She was doing too much, managing it all. She’d be better off paying someone to help out, relinquish some control. Because that was what it was about, he gathered. If she’d had the cash to create this place, then she had the cash to pay for some assistance.
    Nate turned to the group of women beside him. “Ladies first.” He grinned and stepped back, letting Kara tend to them so she wouldn’t feel rushed when she was showing him the gingerbread house. He wanted to make sure it was what he’d envisioned. And, truth be told, he didn’t feel the need to hurry back to the inn. For a variety of reasons.
    â€œIf you won’t take a hot chocolate, then how about a cup of coffee?” Kara asked when she finished ringing up the other customers.
    â€œCoffee sounds great,” he admitted.
    She handed him a mug. “Cream or sugar?”
    He took a long sip of his coffee. It was smooth and dark, and better than the offerings at the diner. “Black is fine.”
    Kara scanned the room, then tipped her head toward the kitchen. “Follow me, then.”
    Nate glanced over his shoulder at the door, deducing that she could probably afford to leave the counter unattended for a few minutes, and followed her through the swinging door into the kitchen, which could have been a scene straight from the North Pole, if one existed. The snowflake cookies he’d come to associate with her were lined by the dozens, some iced, some already sugared, the rest plain and waiting. The far counter was covered with gingerbread houses in various forms of completion, and the air smelled of vanilla and molasses and, of course, peppermint.
    He fought the urge to pick up a candy cane–shaped cookie made from twisted white and red dough. Kara noticed and said, “These are today’s special. I stick with a standard menu and offer something new each day, in addition to seasonal favorites, of course. Try one.”
    He took her up on the offer and bit into the cookie. He’d assumed it would be your run-of-the-mill sugar cookie,