His Jingle Bell Princess Page 10

  “A helicopter is not necessary.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Goodbye, Father.”

  “You need to get home.” It was a command.

  “I’m fine. I truly am. Please don’t worry.”

  “Goodbye, Jasmine. I’ll worry as much as I please.”

  “Goodbye.”

  The line went quiet.

  She hung up the phone, and neither she nor Sam spoke.

  “The phones are back,” he finally stated.

  “That was my father.”

  Sam moved into the room. “I gathered that.”

  “He wants me home.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “He’s talking about sending a helicopter.”

  Sam gave a brief laugh. “I hope he owns one.”

  Jasmine wasn’t about to admit they did own a helicopter. Although it was in Vollan not in the United States.

  He moved to the refrigerator and selected a beer. Then he held it out to her as an offer. She shook her head.

  “We’re still in a state of emergency. Every available helicopter will be deployed in the recovery effort. I’m not sure you’d even get clearance to fly one in.

  “I told him I was fine.”

  “I heard that.”

  “What else did you hear?” She figured she might as well know the truth, or at least know how much of the truth Sam now knew.

  “I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

  “I didn’t think you were.”

  “You saw when I walked in.”

  “I did.” And if that was all he’d heard, she was still safely incognito.

  He moved toward her. “Was there something else?”

  She played dumb. “What do you mean?”

  “Was there something you said that you didn’t want me to hear?” There was a teasing note to his voice that put her at ease. “Something unsavory, possibly illegal.”

  She was relieved to play along with the joke. “What are you imagining?”

  “I have to wonder…” He paused, obviously for effect. “Where did all that money come from?”

  She tilted her head. “Are you accusing me of belonging to a crime family?”

  “Do you belong to a crime family?”

  “I do not. We are incredibly respectable.”

  “I’m going to take you at your word.”

  “How very generous of you.”

  It was clear he was fighting a smile. “But only because you’re so adorable.”

  His words sent a rush of happiness through her. She knew he was joking, but the compliment warmed her to her core.

  He seemed to realize what he’d said, and his expression sobered. “I mean…”

  She jumped in. “You mean I have an air of innocence?”

  It took him a moment to answer. “Yes, that’s it.”

  “I’m glad.” She wanted to recapture their joking mood. “I’d hate to be saddled with an air of guilt.”

  Chapter Six

  As he and Brock cut away the studs from the dining room wall, Sam couldn’t stop himself from hoping that Jasmine would somehow be forced to stay longer. The snow had stopped last night, and the sun was finally out. Though the airport was still closed for the moment, he knew the clock was ticking. By all accounts, her father was extremely anxious to get her home.

  Not that Sam blamed the man. It had to be unsettling to have your daughter, even an adult daughter, stranded by a storm and completely out of contact. Still, Jasmine was twenty-four-years old. Surely she could decide to spend some extra time in Maine. Sam would have her home in time for Christmas.

  As he pondered Jasmine staying in Tucker to be with him, he switched the power off on his reciprocating saw and glanced at her profile. She was seated in the living room with Melanie, their heads bent over Melanie’s laptop. With the internet back up, they were browsing kitchen cabinet stores and looking for decorating ideas.

  “Something wrong?” Brock asked, peeling off his own safety goggles.

  “Just taking a breather,” Sam said.

  Brock moved closer, taking in the focus of Sam’s gaze. “She’s pretty.”

  Guilt instantly hit Sam. “It’s not like that.”

  “It’s allowed to be like that.”

  Sam gave his friend a frown.

  “You’re human, Sam. You’re a thirty-year-old man with normal instincts. Whether you want to or not, you’re going to notice pretty women.”

  “I haven’t so far.”

  It was true. Maybe it was because he knew almost every twenty or thirty something woman in Tucker. Or maybe it was because his emotions had been shut down for so long. But he hadn’t noticed any pretty women to now, and he certainly hadn’t been attracted to anyone.

  “Then this is a good sign.”

  “This is nothing,” Sam said. He wasn’t ready for it to be something.

  “You keep watching her.”

  “I’m curious about her.” That much was true. “Belle and the kids think she’s great. And she seems to like it here. But she’s got this overbearing father back in Vollan who seems almost panicked about getting her home. He was talking about sending in a chopper.”

  “To rescue her from Tucker?”

  “Isn’t that nuts? Sure, there’s been a storm, but it’s not exactly a disaster area.”

  “The town’s still putting up Christmas decorations,” Brock said.

  “Most festive disaster area I’ve ever seen.”

  Brock chuckled.

  “I keep picturing a SWAT team showing up at Belle’s house and hustling Jasmine away in the dead of night.”

  “And how does that make you feel?”

  Sam opened his mouth to answer, but then he realized Brock had set a trap. “Surprised,” he said.

  “Not disappointed? Not sad? Not lonely?”

  “You’re making this into something it’s not.”

  “I guess I’m just hoping.”

  “That I’ll replace Kara?”

  “No.” Brock put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You’ll never replace Kara.”

  “I know I won’t.” Sam would love her until the day he died.

  “I’m just happy to see you feeling better. I’m thrilled to help you finish the kitchen.”

  Sam knew Brock was being a good friend. And he appreciated it more than Brock could know.

  He took in their progress for the day. “It’s looking good. I was thinking after we’re done, I should look at replacing the carpets in living room.”

  “As soon as Foster starts school, we’re replacing ours. Toddlers are hard on floors.”

  “Amelia and Sophie are definitely neater than they used to be. Now, that could be Belle’s influence.”

  “They’re also girls. Count yourself lucky that you didn’t have boys.”

  “I was once a boy. I remember.”

  Brock grinned again, moving back to the opposite end of the half-demolished wall where he was coiling the electrical wires. “You know how these things go. You’ll replace the carpet, then decide to paint the walls, then decide the stairs needs work, and pretty soon you’ll be upstairs sizing up the bedrooms.”

  “I may add an en suite bathroom to the master. Now that the girls are getting older, privacy is going to be important.”

  “I’ve always thought you should punch out the wall to that sitting room. It seems to be dead storage space, and you’d end up with a fantastic master.”

  Sam pictured it in his mind. It was a good idea. It was the wall he’d put his fist through, and removing it altogether appealed to him.

  “You know you’re signing up for a whole lot of neighborly work.” He warned Brock.

  “It’s not like you can do the exterior walls before spring. We might as well to something in the meantime.”

  “We might as well.”

  A month ago, Sam would have been overwhelmed by such an enormous task. But now it seemed to energize him.

  Melanie called from the living room.
“What do you think of beechwood cabinets?”

  “I’m open,” Sam said. As long as it was fresh and light, he wasn’t going to fuss about the details.

  Jasmine came to her feet, moving gracefully across the room. “Something like this? The natural wood would soften the light.” She came up close beside him and showed him the laptop. “You could do pale yellow on the walls, mottled green countertops, and add some stone accents.”

  He loved the sound of her voice. He loved the scent of her skin. He liked having her close. Her arm touched his and he subtly leaned in, making a show of adjusting the screen of the laptop so he could see it clearly.

  It wasn’t the only thing he could see.

  He’d just denied it up and down to Brock. But he was lying, and he’d been lying to himself for days. He was intensely attracted Jasmine—a man to a woman, romantically and sexually, in every way possible. It might be too soon, but it was what it was, and there was no way to stop it.

  “I like that,” he said about the picture.

  “It sounds expensive,” Brock said.

  Jasmine’s expression fell, and Sam’s instinct was to defend her choice. “I don’t mind paying for good quality.”

  “I didn’t think about the cost.” She looked quite regretful.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Show me what you’re thinking.”

  She seemed to be gauging the sincerity in his expression.

  “Go ahead.” He prompted.

  “Okay.” She turned her attention to the screen, pointing. “It would be bright without being glaring, up-to-date, but timeless enough to endure trends, making it worth the money in the long run.”

  “Don’t worry about money this early on.”

  She gave him a grateful smile. “I was thinking this corner shelf would look great with small plants, succulents, low maintenance, maybe in jade colored pots.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Quite frankly, he was ready to agree to anything she proposed.

  “Are you guys getting hungry?” Melanie asked.

  “I’m hungry,” Brock said.

  “Jasmine and I can go make some sandwiches.”

  Sam was hungry, too. But he didn’t want Jasmine to go make sandwiches. He didn’t want her to go anywhere. He wanted her to stay right here beside him where he could touch her and smell her.

  He wanted desperately to kiss her, and he was tired of fighting his desire. It suddenly seemed like every facet of his life was a battle. He wanted to let go now. He wanted to take the easy path, the pleasant path. Would it be so terrible if he was to kiss Jasmine?

  “The babysitter needs to head home soon,” Melanie said. “Jasmine can bring the food back. That is, unless you want five children underfoot while you work.”

  “Please, spare us,” Brock said. “The boys love to ‘help’.”

  Sam knew it was inefficient, but he couldn’t help but smile at the image. But then his smile faded as Jasmine walked away from him. She left the laptop on the table and bundled into her coat and hat.

  As the door closed behind the women, Brock spoke. “Good thing you’re not attracted to her.”

  “I’d have to be blind not to notice she’s attractive.”

  “Well, that’s progress. At least you’re not falling all over yourself to pretend you’re made of stone.

  “I’m not made of stone.”

  “None of us are made of stone. Let your guard down. Let yourself go. I promise the world will continue to spin.”

  “What can I do? She’s here for a couple more days, at most.” Continuing to lie to Brock seemed pointless at this stage.

  “There’s another storm coming in.”

  “Yeah?” Hope rose in Sam.

  Brock chuckled. “You’ve got it bad.”

  “You’re wrong. I’ve got it. Sure. But just barely.”

  Sam was attracted to Jasmine, full stop. She was a beautiful, kind, and intelligent woman. The attraction was perfectly understandable and perfectly ordinary, and it would fade to a fuzzy memory by New Year’s.

  *

  Amelia, Sophie, and Libby shrieked with delight, playing some kind of chasing game up and down the staircase in Melanie’s house.

  Melanie covered her ears. “One minute it’s dress-up and dolls, the next it’s tag.”

  Grant rushed by, followed by Foster, bringing up the rear.

  “Is that why Foster’s wearing lipstick?” Jasmine asked.

  “Grant’s starting to refuse, but Foster’s still up for anything.”

  “Amelia and Sophie showed me their dress-up clothes.”

  They were sitting at Melanie’s dining room table sharing tea.

  “They have the best collection in town,” Melanie said. “Some came from Kara, but most from Belle. I think Belle still collects them from used clothing stores when she travels. She was quite the fashionista when she was young.”

  “But not Kara?” Jasmine asked. She couldn’t help but be curious about Kara, but she didn’t want to ask her family about her. It could too easily bring back painful memories.

  “Kara was more of a tomboy,” Melanie said. “I think that’s what first attracted Sam. She was the only girl willing to help him build a tree fort.”

  “You grew up with them, then?”

  “We were all in the same school, Brock, me, Sam, and Kara. You must wonder about her.”

  “I haven’t wanted to ask.”

  “She was great, loads of fun, up for anything, athletic, good at yard work.”

  Jasmine couldn’t help contrasting herself to Kara. She wasn’t athletic. And doubted she’d be any good at yard work. She wasn’t even sure exactly what yard work would be.

  Was she fun? Fun was probably not the right word. She liked to think she was kind and supportive. She could host a great event. Then again, anybody could host a great event with a staff of fifty. She’d never actually tried it on her own.

  She knew four languages. But she doubted that was much fun for children. For the first time, she wondered about being a mother. Would her children like her? Royal mothers didn’t have time for a lot of play.

  Melanie continued speaking. “I’d say Kara was a perfect mother for Amelia. Sophie is more like her grandmother. So it’s nice having Belle around.”

  “They said Kara played dress-up with them.”

  “She did. So did I. I think we moms feign enthusiasm for a whole lot of things. Dress-up is a staple for young girls here in Tucker. What about you?”

  Jasmine wasn’t sure how to answer. She didn’t want to admit she was worried about her mothering capabilities.

  “Did you play dress-up?” Melanie elaborated.

  Jasmine laughed at that, relieved that the question was more straightforward than her eventual plans for motherhood. “No. I had to do dress-up for real.”

  “How so?”

  Jasmine had been a feature at balls and afternoon teas from the time she was four years old. No expense had been spared designing gowns and accessories for the little princess. But she couldn’t tell that to Melanie.

  “Sam may have mentioned, in Vollan, my father has a fair amount of influence and, well, money, too.”

  “You grew up rich?”

  “I guess there’s really no other word for it. I’m an only child, and there were a lot of formal events while I was growing up.”

  “Dress-up isn’t as much fun in real life?” Melanie guessed.

  “It loses something when you have to stand and smile for hours.”

  The children flashed past again, in a blur of color and noise. They were obviously running some kind of circuit through the house. Melanie seemed to take it all in stride.

  “Tell me more about Kara,” Jasmine prompted. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

  “I don’t mind. I like talking about her. She was something of a leader in the PTA and in the neighborhood. She fund-raised for school field trips, went on the field trips, organized the soccer league, and led the street beautification project. Flowe
rs she planted still bloom.”

  “That’s a nice legacy.” Jasmine had planted countless trees around Vollan. She liked to think about them still standing, bringing beauty and shade to the parks and memorials.

  “We were close for the years they lived here,” Melanie said.

  “You must miss her.”

  “I do. But, well, it’s starting to feel like a long time has gone past. The memories are good, but so much has changed now, with the girls growing up. Foster was just a baby back then. A lot about my life has changed.”

  “Mommy?” It was Libby who spoke, but the other children all arrived around her in a cluster.

  “The busyness factor hasn’t changed,” Melanie said with a good natured laugh. “Yes, honey?”

  “How are we going to make our costumes? For the Christmas party. How are we going to make the costumes on time?”

  “Costumes,” Foster sang. “Costumes.”

  Melanie took a moment to answer, obviously composing her words. “We might not have time for costumes this year.”

  The girls’ faces fell.

  Sophie swallowed.

  “We have to have costumes,” Amelia whispered in what seemed like horror.

  “What kind of costumes do you need?” Jasmine asked.

  “We did elves last time,” Libby said. “All the kids in school were elves.”

  “And once we did angels,” Amelia said.

  “Santa toys one year,” Melanie said. “But they took weeks to make. Even with everyone pitching in, there’s already so much to do in a short time.”

  A large tear appeared in the corner of Sophie’s eye.

  Amelia took her hand.

  Libby compressed her lips.

  “What about your dress-up clothes,” Jasmine suggested.

  Five sets of eyes swung her way. Melanie looked curious as well.

  “You have all those wonderful dresses and things in your basement. I bet your friends have some, too. Maybe you could use them and be Christmas princesses?” She looked to Grant. “And Christmas princes, too, of course.”

  The girls broke into instantaneous smiles. “Christmas princesses,” they cried.

  “Can we, Mommy,” Libby asked, jumping on the spot. “Can we?”

  “That sounds easy enough,” said Melanie. She reached out to give Jasmine’s hand a squeeze. “Let me talk to Belle and some of the other mommies.”