Love at Christmas Inn Collection 1 Read online

  “Sorry, boy.” Jayson gave the mutt a pat and then offered him the biscuit he’d thought to stuff into one pocket before he left for the theater. Usually Max hung out in the fenced back yard of the rental house they’d called home for the past two years, chasing squirrels and lazing beneath a massive weeping willow. But Jayson had recently purchased a parcel of property in Hope Creek where he’d build a permanent home. He planned to break ground as soon as the holidays closed and the weather moderated, so he’d decided not to renew the year-long lease on the rental house and instead signed a monthly rental for the cottage at Christmas Inn. He loved the inn with its picturesque charm, but no fence surrounded the cottage grounds. Max couldn’t be left inside all day, or even alone outside to roam with guests. “I know I’ve dragged you into this mess, and that you’re tired, too.”

  If Jayson lived to be a hundred, he’d never understand just why and exactly how he’d let Dahlia Brewster talk him into co-starring in this year’s charity Christmas show. Sure, Harvey Wallace had been slated with the honors before he broke his ankle while mapping out the choreography. And sure, Jayson had experience as a keynote speaker at a few charity events in Hope Creek and surrounding areas, and he’d also once co-starred with Emmy Lancaster in the annual musical when they were seniors at Hope Creek High…and dating. But that had been years ago, long before Emmy chased her big screen dreams clear to California while Jayson’s design and construction days took root. Now, Jayson was much more comfortable working behind the scenes instead of in them.

  He tossed a water bottle to Manny, then drew a long swig from his own.

  “I don’t know why you’re so chipper this morning, Lawson.” He swiped a hand across his mouth. “You know this deal with Dahlia will mean a much larger workload for you over the next several weeks. You’ll have to handle the bulk of the set construction for the Christmas show yourself, and as you’ve so emphatically noted, there’s hardly time to waste.”

  “You’ve been a great teacher. I can manage it, Jay.” Manny nodded over the rim of the bottle, his dark eyes partially obscured by the safety glasses he’d donned in preparation for a bout of sandblasting. “No worries about me. You’ve got enough on your plate with songs to learn and dance moves to conquer. I know it’s going to be a tough couple of weeks, but you’re doing the right thing helping Miss Dahlia.”

  “You’re right.” Dahlia Brewster had been more than a friend to Jayson and his parents for as long as he could remember, and she’d always treated Jayson like a favorite son. When a car accident the summer following his graduation from college claimed his dad’s life and left his mom severely injured, Dahlia hired Jayson as the head of set design and construction in her theater, affording him the opportunity to stay close to home. He would never forget the kindness that made it possible for him to stay near his mom’s side as she regained her health. “I need to stop my bellyaching. I’ll get through it.”

  Manny lowered his voice and leaned in conspiratorially. “Does she know?”

  “Does who know what?”

  “Emilee Lancaster, you big doofus. Does she know Harvey’s out of the picture and that she’ll be headlining Dahlia’s charity show with you instead?”

  The mention of Emmy’s name evoked a mixture of memories like a flavorful gumbo with a few sour bites. He’d shared his heart with her, and for a while things had been good…better than good. He and Emmy had been downright magical together. At least he thought they were. But she must have thought differently, because she’d gotten this wild hair to go chasing a dream of bright lights and big cities. Who was Jayson to stand in her way when she announced she was leaving for Hollywood, convinced she’d make it big in movies just like her Aunt Dahlia had in the music industry?

  He’d loved her, and knew it would do neither of them any good to try to hold on too tight, so he’d watched her go with a heavy heart and a parting vow. “If you ever need me, Emmy, I’ll be here for you, with bells on.”

  Seven long years later, and she hadn’t returned. She obviously didn’t need—or want—him. It was time to face facts, put those bells away, and move on.

  Or was it? Could it be that Emmy’s decision to return this Christmas meant something more than simply helping with the show? Could there be another plan in the works, a bigger plan than Jayson might imagine?

  He forced away the thought and came back down to earth as he considered Manny’s question.

  “Yes. I mean, I think so. Dahlia was supposed to tell her last night.” He shook his head as fingers of uneasiness stroked his spine. “At least, I hope Emmy knows. If she doesn’t, well…the Big Man Upstairs better help us all through the upcoming weeks of rehearsals and shows.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “We didn’t exactly part on good terms. Maybe it was her fault, maybe it was mine.”

  “Or maybe you both carry a bit of regret?”

  “I don’t think she sees it that way.” Jayson shrugged, and dread continued to tug at him. “I haven’t spoken to her in ages, so there’s no telling. I’m not even sure Dahlia told her I’m working on the set design for the show, let alone costarring.”

  “That said, can you handle Miss Lancaster?” Manny lowered his voice and leaned in. “I hear she can be a little…difficult.”

  “Don’t believe everything you hear, Lawson.” Jayson tossed the hammer aside, not sure why he felt the need to defend Emmy. After all, she’d left Hope Creek and abandoned their relationship, not him. But his mood proved foul, and he couldn’t seem to shake the veil of gloom.

  With little more than a cat nap the night before, he’d arrived at the theater early, before the sun shook off the evening stars, pulling double duty to get at least the largest part of work on the set underway before the cast arrived for rehearsal. The construction crew was in a time crunch, and Jayson’s completion schedule hadn’t accounted for memorizing scripts and dance numbers.

  And then there was Emmy, and this change of plans thrown into the mix. He couldn’t help thinking the entire venture might be a recipe for disaster.

  But that didn’t mean he could stand by and let anyone badmouth Emmy. “And you know better than to repeat gossip just because it crosses your path.”

  “Whoa. Alright, man. I get your drift.” Manny took up the sandblaster, and for a moment all other sound was drowned out by the screech of air hitting wood and Max’s accompanying whine. Poor guy, he’d rather be back at the cottage, chasing bluebirds or napping on the porch. But Jayson hadn’t felt comfortable leaving him alone for so many hours while he pulled double duty here at the theater, and he knew the inn’s guests wouldn’t appreciate crossing paths with the mastiff. Max looked much like a hulking beast, and until people got to know his gentle demeanor, they were more often than not leery of his massive size.

  “My drift?” Jayson waited for a break in the blasting. “And what drift is that?”

  “I heard about you and Emilee Lancaster.” Manny punctuated the statement with a saucy wink.

  “What, exactly, did you hear?”

  “Oh, no…I’m not repeating gossip, boss, per your orders.” Manny grinned as if he’d just snatched the last triple-chocolate brownie from its plate. “But you’re not over the lovely lady yet, are you?”

  “Oh, I’m way over her.” Jayson nodded, his teeth clenched tight as a vice because his heart remained in such conflict with the verbiage. Even so, he added, “That particular ship sailed a long time ago.”

  “Well, I think said ship just returned to port.” Manny glanced to his left as he lowered the blaster to the ground and lifted his goggles for a better view. “Because here comes Miss Emilee Lancaster now.”

  3

  Jayson glanced up to see Emmy striding down the carpeted aisle toward the stage front. She was all legs and waves of sun-kissed blonde hair—longer and lighter than he remembered—as she unknotted the scarf around her neck and shrugged off a snow-white winter jacket. Time had been good to her, and Jayson stood mesmerized as she closed the dis
tance between them.

  “Better draw in that tongue and close your mouth, boss, before you choke on sawdust and paint chips.”

  Manny’s comment brought Jayson back. He rubbed his palms along the front of his jeans, brushing off the sawdust. Emmy’s foot barely touched the bottom step stage right when a string of barks rang out from behind the curtain, startling them all.

  “Max, is that you?” Emmy didn’t miss a single beat.

  “No, Max!” Jayson cautioned as a clatter ensued, the result of a stack of cut two-by-fours toppling over when the forward and back wave of a massive tail displaced them. The mastiff romped into view, accompanied by the methodic thump of his ginormous paws galloping over polished wood.

  The dog barreled toward Emmy, and she held her position as if playing chicken with a freight train. Her onyx eyes danced with delight. “Oh, it is you, sweet thing!”

  “Max, no. Down!” Jayson ordered frantically, but his warning went unheeded as the oversized canine pushed past him. He lurched into motion, rushing to catch up. “Emmy, watch out!”

  “Nonsense. Max won’t hurt me.” Emmy dropped her purse and backpack and fell to her knees with her arms held wide. She braced herself for impact, and recovered quickly to give Max’s belly a good scratch. Though the dog dwarfed her, she showed not even an ounce of fear. On the contrary, laughter bubbled up as she gazed lovingly into the mutt’s eyes. “Oh, sweet Max. Can I have a hug?”

  Immediately, the mastiff placed his front paws atop each of Emmy’s shoulders and pressed his massive jowl to her cheek in an impossibly gentle show of affection. His tail thumped wildly, strong enough to rattle the floor.

  “Oh, you remember after all these years,” Emmy murmured. She leaned in close to wrap her arms around the dog who quaked with unbridled excitement. Her fingertips failed to meet, so broad was his girth. “Yes, I remember you too, you big, loveable sweetheart.”

  Jayson shook his head as the scene unfolded, while Manny belly-laughed at his side. Just as he remembered, Emmy proved full of moxie.

  “You’ve got your work cut out for you, boss,” Manny murmured when he finally caught a breath. “She’s a firecracker, for sure. I hope you’re ready to sail this storm.”

  Jayson ignored the comment. There’d be plenty more from Manny before this show was over. He shook sawdust from his hair and stepped forward as if in a dream. Watching Emmy with Max, he felt as if time rewound to the afternoon they’d first found the dog together. Jayson had just gotten his driver’s license and offered to drive Emmy home from a morning practice for the spring musical at Hope Creek High. On the way to her house, they’d passed by the animal shelter. After catching a glimpse of Max curled up near the fence of a dog run, looking as if he’d lost his only friend, Emmy’d implored Jayson to park. She’d crouched at the fence, invoking a gentle tone as she talked a blue-streak to the abandoned mutt. She’d take him home, she said, but her mother was allergic to dogs.

  So, they’d left without the dog, but Emmy had tears in her eyes.

  For days, she talked about Max until finally, Jayson got the go-ahead from his own folks to adopt the dog. He’d surprised Emmy by inviting her on a date, and bringing Max along to chaperone. When Emmy saw Max perched in the backseat, his head brushing the ceiling as he panted with excitement, she’d cried happy tears. It was the beginning of Jayson and Emmy’s dating journey.

  Who knew she would take off for the West Coast just a few short years later?

  Because Jayson wanted so badly to reach out and draw her into a hug—wished she’d show the same excitement to see him that she had for Max—he jammed his hands firmly into his pockets before trusting himself to speak. The words came slowly and with a measure of hesitation. “Hey, Emmy.”

  She tilted her head back to gaze up at him and those dark, expressive eyes framed by long lashes nearly stole his breath. Was she glad to see him, after all?

  “Hi, Jayson.” A hint of a smile curved plump, glossed lips. “So this is where you hang out now. Aunt Dahlia mentioned you help construct the sets. It’s good to see you. It’s been a long time…too long.”

  “Yes, it has.” He swallowed hard as he tried to force memories back into the compartment of his brain where they’d spent the past several years gathering dust, then echoed her sentiment. “Way too long.”

  Emmy peeled Max’s paws from her shoulders and gave his head a gentle pat before rising. Her tall, slender figure brought her forehead to Jayson’s chin, and he remembered how he used to like to lean in and kiss the creamy expanse of skin. The urge beckoned now, and he fought against it. He hadn’t expected to feel this way…as if they hadn’t spent so much as a day apart. The feelings for her remained strong, and now they rose to the surface like flotsam after a storm.

  “The set looks like it’s coming along.” She did a slow sweep of the stage. “I like it. You were always good at visualizing set design, and then making those visions come to life.”

  “Thanks, but there’s still so much to do.” Jayson motioned to the backdrop at the rear of the stage. “We’ll add a rail to that balcony. I know you’re afraid of heights, so maybe it’ll help you feel more secure.”

  “Thanks.” Emmy’s smile said she was touched to know he remembered. “That’s really nice.”

  “And we still have a lot of sandblasting to do, then repainting and details…” He let the thought trail off. “Manny will handle things.”

  “Of course.” Emmy nodded a greeting to Manny, who stood at Jayson’s side. “I’m sure you make a great team. Aunt Dahlia said you’re the best. So, where are the dressing rooms? I’ll get ready for rehearsal, and let you both get back to work.”

  “The dressing rooms are that way.” Jayson mouthed directions as warning bells rang through his head. Emmy didn’t know yet—did she? What if—?

  “Thanks. I thought I’d get an early start, since I missed rehearsal yesterday.” She turned toward the seating and Jayson figured she was sizing up the audience space, imagining how the show might play out. “My flight was delayed. It was nightmarish and exhausting. I didn’t think I’d ever get here.”

  “I heard.” He could barely force the words. “You must be tired.”

  “A little.” She gave a slight nod, and the way the light hit her chin showed off the dimple at its center…the same dip of skin Jayson used to press his lips to. Did Emmy remember those kisses? “I stayed up way too late last night exploring Christmas Inn. I’m staying there.”

  “You’re bunking at Christmas Inn?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Never mind.” Jayson shook his head, dismissing the question. Obviously, she had no idea he was using the cottage there. But she’d find out…eventually. And then—

  “I headed this way early because I thought Harvey might be here, working on the choreography.” Emmy searched the stage and the aisle ways, obviously hoping for a glimpse of him. “I was thinking he and I might get a jump on things, work out a few kinks before Aunt Dahlia and the others arrive.”

  That cemented it. Might as well let the proverbial cat—and the grand finale of fireworks that were sure to follow—out of the bag. Jayson cleared his throat and murmured, “Harvey’s not here.”

  “Oh?” Emmy gathered her purse and slung a thin strap over one shapely shoulder. “Soon, then?”

  “No. Not soon. He’s not—Harvey’s not—coming in today. Or tomorrow.” Jayson captured her gaze and held tight, gauging her reaction as he added, “As a matter of fact, Harvey’s not coming in at all.”

  The light left Emmy’s eyes, turning them to nuggets of coal. Her voice, bright and airy a moment ago, went flat. “What do you mean, Harvey’s not coming in?”

  “Harvey Wallace is indefinitely incapacitated. I’ll be your partner in the Christmas show.” Jayson held her gaze like a vice. “We’re in this together, Emmy, for better or worse…for the long haul.”

  ****

  “What?” Emmy’s throat clenched and her voice refused to cooperate. She swallowed har
d, working to staunch the flush of heat that washed over her. “What do you mean, you’re my partner? You design and build sets, Jayson. That’s a far cry from dancing and singing.”

  “I know what I do, and I also know what I’m capable of.” Jayson’s chin rose in a subtle challenge, and his eyes flashed hot, like the flames of a freshly-stoked fire. For a moment, Emmy was taken back to the moment she told him she was leaving Hope Creek, so many moons ago. He’d had the same look in his eyes then…as if the earth had shifted beneath him. “So does Dahlia, and she trusts me…believes in me.”

  “What, exactly are you insinuating?” Emmy knew how Jayson must have felt that afternoon, because she felt it now, the shifting, and there was nothing to hold onto. The realization hurt her heart. After all this time, the breakup—hurting Jayson—still hurt her. “I don’t understand.”

  “Dahlia asked me to pick up the slack here when Harvey broke his ankle. Didn’t she tell you?”

  “No.”

  “I tried to, Emmy dear.” As if stepping from a dream, Dahlia entered stage left and crossed to join them. Her signature fragrance filled the air with hints of lavender and lemon. “Last night on the phone, remember? I told you we had something important to discuss. You assured me—and I quote…‘Whatever it is, whatever you need, yes.’”

  “But I didn’t mean…” Emmy backpedaled. Had she said that? She couldn’t recall with certainty now. Everything from the evening before seemed muddled. She had been exhausted, yet the inn had called to her like an enchanted whisper, bidding her to explore. So she’d put off sleep to roam a bit. And now here stood Jayson, staring at her with those mesmerizing midnight blue eyes, as if she’d grown a second head. Why, oh why, did he have to look so handsome with his wavy dark hair and an air of confidence that seemed to seep from his skin. And, speaking of skin, how did he manage to look as if he’d just stepped from a summer beach while she stood pale as a snowman…or would that be a snowwoman? Except for the flush of heat that crawled up her neck. That, she felt sure, appeared anything but pale. “I was enthralled by the inn, Aunt Dahlia, and not paying much attention to our conversation.”