His Jingle Bell Princess Read online

  “Let’s go downstairs and look,” called Amelia, turning to trot away.

  “We can all share,” said Libby. “We can trade.”

  It took Foster a minute to realize the group was moving on, but then he gamely trotted after them.

  “Nice save,” Melanie said.

  “You obviously know about the party plan.”

  “With the phones up and running, Belle’s been organizing us into squads.”

  “What do you think?”

  “Of surprising Sam?”

  Jasmine nodded, while Melanie took a contemplative sip of her tea.

  “It’s a risk,” Melanie said. “But seeing him today, I think it’s a risk worth taking.”

  “Belle said the same thing.”

  “You didn’t see what he was like. As late as a week ago, he wasn’t going near his house, and he was determined to endure the holidays in abject misery. Brock was at the end of his rope, about to force the issue one way or the other.”

  “These last couple of days…” Jasmine began. Even she had noticed a change in the short time she’d known him.

  “Brock thinks it’s you.”

  Jasmine stilled in surprise. “How could it be me?”

  “You’ve shaken him up. He sees you as a woman.”

  “I am a woman.”

  “He’s attracted to you.”

  “Nothing’s happened,” Jasmine hastily assured her. The last thing she wanted was for Sam to be the subject of gossip on top of everything else.

  “I’m not surprised by that. He’s fighting it for all he’s worth. But he’s also turned a corner. You’re good for him. He needs you.”

  Jasmine knew that couldn’t be true. “He barely knows me.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I’m only going to be here a few more days.”

  “A few days is a long time,” Melanie said with a sly smile.

  Jasmine wasn’t going there. The very thought of something happening between them—even if Jasmine had privately fantasized in the dead of night—was absolutely out of the question. Sam was a recovering widower and Jasmine was a princess. She had a code of conduct to respect, and duties that she was already neglecting on the other side of the ocean. Kissing Sam might be a compelling daydream, but that was all it could ever be.

  “It’s a bad idea,” Jasmine said. “It’s a really bad idea.”

  “But you’re tempted.”

  Jasmine felt her cheeks heat and she focused on her tea.

  “I saw the way you looked at him,” Melanie said.

  “He’s a nice-looking man.” Jasmine’s words were an almost comical understatement.

  “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

  “I’m not embarrassed.”

  “You’re blushing. You’re an adult. You’re single. There’s nothing wrong with being attracted to Sam.”

  Melanie didn’t understand the complexities. Jasmine might be an adult, but she was completely innocent where it came to romance. Casual dating wasn’t a constitutionally permitted activity for the crown princess. Even if it was, she doubted any man in Vollan would brave her father in order to date her.

  “Shake him up a little,” Melanie said. “Rattle his cage.”

  “I’m not rattling anything when it comes to Sam. I’m leaving everything”—Jasmine held up her palms for emphasis—“completely un-rattled.”

  Melanie laughed. “It’s your decision. But if the moment presents itself, I say you should go for it.”

  Jasmine’s cheeks grew warmer still. The last thing she wanted was a moment with Sam to present itself. Because she might not be able to stop herself from going for it, and that would be a disaster.

  She took a swallow of tea and tried to keep her imagination from wandering.

  It would be an utterly exciting, indulgent, exhilarating disaster.

  *

  At the end of the day, Sam was dusty and tired, but satisfied. They’d made significant progress dismantling the kitchen, and started planning the new layout. Brock went home to his family, while Sam and Jasmine settled in the pickup truck for the short drive to Belle’s.

  He adjusted the fan speed to keep cold air from blowing on them while the engine warmed up. “Do you mind if we take a detour?”

  “Not at all.” She wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Cold?”

  “A little. But I’ll be fine. Where are we going?”

  “Walnut Crescent.” He pulled forward and turned onto the street. “There’s a seniors’ residence a few blocks in. I’ve been trying to plow a street or two on my way home every night.”

  “That’s very considerate of you.” It was dark in the cab, but he could hear a smile in her voice.

  “A few of us have plow blades on our trucks. It’s mostly felt like a losing battle, but every little bit we can clear makes it easier for people to get around.”

  “You’ve very civic-minded.”

  “I was. I used to be, before—” He caught himself, not wanting to risk getting emotional. He’d been strong all day and he was determined to stay that way.

  “It sounds like you still are,” Jasmine said.

  “I’m getting there.”

  It felt good to be thinking about other people. Maybe that was what he should have been doing all along. Maybe he’d been too self-indulgent about his own sorrow. He should have snapped out of this months ago.

  “There’s no right way to grieve,” Jasmine said, her voice sympathetic in the dim light of the cab.

  “I’m beginning to think there’s a wrong way.”

  “There’s only your way. Melanie thinks you’re feeling better.”

  He didn’t know how to respond to the opening. He’d been guarding himself for so long, it was almost impossible to let go and be honest. But he found he wanted to be honest. He wanted to open up to Jasmine.

  She waited quietly.

  “It’s strange,” he finally said as he navigated the snowy street. “It’s like I stepped out of a bubble. Suddenly, I can hear, smell, touch, and taste things I’d almost forgotten existed.”

  Walnut Crescent was coming up.

  “Two weeks ago, I’d have told you it was impossible for me to pack Kara’s clothes into a box.”

  “You packed up her clothes?”

  “This morning.” He signaled, turned left onto Walnut, and lowered the plow blade.

  The truck lurched with the increased load, and Jasmine grabbed for the dashboard to brace herself.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Fine.”

  “It’s going to be bumpy.” He should have thought of that before he decided on this plan.

  “I’m good.”

  He considered taking advantage of the interruption and letting the subject of Kara’s clothes drop. But he found he didn’t want to do that. Strangely, he wanted to talk about his reactions to being in the house.

  “I put her stuff in the basement,” he said, adjusting the speed of the truck, gauging the resistance of the snow. “I’m going to renovate the master bedroom.” No, that wasn’t what he wanted to say. He could talk to Brock and Melanie about the physical aspects of the house. He wanted, needed to talk to someone about the emotional impact of the changes he was making.

  “It’s hard,” he said to Jasmine, forcing himself to lay out the truth. “Part of me wants to hide it all away, replace the furniture, rip out the carpets. And part of me wants to freeze it all in time.” He paused. “But I suppose that’s what I’ve been doing. And it hasn’t been working. I need to change something. I need to move forward. But it scares me half to death.”

  He realized just how much he’d said and he snapped his jaw shut, using the excuse of backing up the truck to relieve the load on the plow, in order to get himself out of the intensely personal conversation.

  “I think it used to scare you,” Jasmine said. “I think it stopped scaring you, and that’s what’s scaring you.”

  He put the truck into drive
again. But he kept his foot on the brake pedal, turning to look at her. A streetlight shone through the window, highlighting her blond hair, framing her beautiful face, her green eyes opaque and compassionate.

  She was right.

  The frightening part was that he could let go.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  She suddenly seemed to tense up. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean how did you come into my life?”

  As quickly as she’d gone tense, she seemed to relax again. “There was a plane, and a storm, and your mother-in-law.”

  He couldn’t help but smile at her joke. “To think I’ve been cursing this storm.”

  “I’ve certainly been cursing this storm.” She stopped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that that way it sounded. I’m happy I met you, Sam.”

  The desire that rose up in him was so strong, that he all but bent the steering wheel under his grip. He forced himself to look away from her, forced himself to lift his foot from the brake, touching the accelerator and sending the truck forward.

  “Sam, look out!” she cried.

  He hit the brakes again, sliding to a halt, stopping just short of a mottled brown dog that looked trapped in the snow. It was medium sized, with short hair, and floppy ears. It stared up at the truck with such a sad and desperate look that Sam was immediately out the door, clambering through the snow towards it.

  “Hey, boy,” he said gently, offering the back of his hand for it to sniff.

  The dog whimpered. It tried to move in the deep snow, but it was obviously too exhausted.

  He heard Jasmine’s door open. “Do you need help?”

  “Stay put,” he called back. “The snow is really deep.”

  “Are you lost?” he asked the dog.

  He checked for a collar, but didn’t find one.

  The dog was shivering.

  Sam stroked its fur. “Would you come with me?” he asked in the most soothing voice he could muster.

  Careful not to startle the animal, he slid one arm across its chest and one behind its haunches.

  “Try to keep still,” he said, slowly lifting the dog, coming fully to his feet.

  Though he followed his own footsteps back, it was still a struggle. But he made it to the truck, and hoisted the dog onto the bench seat in the cab.

  “It he okay?” Jasmine asked in a hushed voice.

  “Exhausted,” Sam said. “Really cold. He must be hungry and thirsty.”

  She scratched the dog under its chin. It immediately flopped down in the middle of the seat and put its head in her lap.

  She glanced around the neighborhood. “Should we check the houses?”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” Sam answered. It would take a long time to wade his way up to each house, and he had to assume if someone close by was missing a dog, they’d have come looking for it.

  “You’ll take him home?” Jasmine asked. Her tone said she was afraid he might say no.

  “Absolutely,” Sam said. “Belle might not love it on her white floor, but we can’t leave him out here.”

  “Good.” She sounded relieved.

  The dog closed its eyes and its shivering stopped. Its breathing went even.

  “He’s obviously used to people,” Sam said.

  “He seems thin.”

  Sam thought so, too. He had to wonder how long the dog had been away from its home. If it was for the entirety of the storm, it was a good thing they’d found him when they did.

  “It won’t take long to finish the plowing,” Sam said.

  “He seems comfortable,” Jasmine said.

  “You don’t mind him there.”

  “I don’t mind at all. I’ve always wanted a dog.” She gently stroked his fur. “My father’s a cat person.” A smile came onto her face. “Fiona and Mitander. Both pure white Persians.”

  “I bet they have jeweled collars.”

  “You’d bet right. Fiona’s is ruby and Mitander’s is emerald.”

  “Not real ones.”

  Jasmine gave a little laugh. “No, no, not real.”

  But there was something in the way she said it that made him wonder just exactly how rich her family was.

  “What about yours?” he asked.

  “My dog? I just said I didn’t have a one.”

  “I meant your jewelry. Is it all real?”

  She hesitated a moment before answering. “Some. It’s mostly heirlooms. I don’t buy much myself.”

  “Daddy doesn’t buy it for you?”

  “Was that an insult?”

  Sam realized he had been rude. “I apologize. What your father does or doesn’t buy you is none of my business.”

  “I’m not spoiled, Sam. I mean, well, I know that I am privileged.”

  “You have a private jet.” He reversed the truck again, freeing it from the large pile of snow that had built up in front of the plow blade. He changed the angle.

  “My family has a private jet. I was only using it.”

  He couldn’t stop a smirk. “You do know how that sounded.”

  “Yes, I know how that sounded. But I can’t help who I was born.”

  “Did I touch a nerve?”

  “No. It is what it is.” She sounded more resigned than content.

  That made him curious. “Would you change it if you could?”

  The question obviously made her think, and he got the sense she was planning on giving him a straight answer rather than a flippant one. He admired that.

  “Mostly, no,” she said. “But every once in a while, in a moment like this, I think it would be nice to be someone else, someone normal.”

  The intimacy of the cab seemed to press in around them, and he couldn’t stop himself from asking. “What do you like about this moment?”

  She kept her gaze down, concentrating on the dog. “The night. The stillness. The privacy.” Her voice softened. “The company.”

  Emotion swelled inside him. He didn’t say anything. But he stretched his arm to touch her shoulder. He stroked it with his fingertips.

  She covered his hand with hers, and he reveled in the pleasant feelings that flowed from the touch.

  “There’s something going on here, isn’t there?” he asked.

  She opened her mouth, then closed it again, waiting a moment before she spoke. “There can’t be.”

  He supposed that was true, but he knew now it wasn’t something they could will away. He wanted her. And she had as much as admitted she was attracted right back.

  “It’s a good thing there’s a dog between us.” He punched through the snow at the end of the crescent, back out to the main road.

  Chapter Seven

  “We got a dog!” Amelia cried out as she entered the kitchen and spotted the animal standing next to Sam.

  Belle appeared, looking next to horrified by the scene. “What’s this?”

  Jasmine was impressed the dog stayed calm through the commotion.

  “He’s just visiting,” Sam cautioned Amelia, obviously also intending to reassure Belle.

  Sophie came sliding around the corner, her sock feet scrambling against the slippery floor before she grabbed onto Belle for stability. “We got a dog?”

  “We found him stuck in the snow.” Sam explained to Belle.

  “You better start looking for his owner,” Belle said without missing a beat.

  It was easy to see she wasn’t a dog lover.

  “What’s his name?” Amelia asked.

  “We don’t know,” Sam said. “We’ll look for his owner tomorrow.”

  “Can’t we keep him?” Sophie asked.

  “No, we can’t keep him,” Belle immediately answered.

  “For now, he’s hungry,” Sam said. “There are some leftover burgers.”

  “Why can’t we keep him?” asked Sophie.

  “Is he friendly?” asked Amelia, inching closer.

  “He seems friendly,” Jasmine said. “He slept with his head in my lap on the way home.”

  “W
e have to name him,” Amelia said. She approached the dog, holding out her hand to let him sniff it, just as Sam had done back on the road.

  The dog gave her a sniff then a lick.

  “He likes me!”

  “Or he’s hungry,” Belle harrumphed.

  Jasmine found herself sharing a smile with Sam.

  “I found him a bowl,” Sophie announced, proudly holding up a red ceramic bowl.

  “Not my good mixing bowl,” Belle said.

  “Get one of the empty ice cream tubs from the laundry room,” Sam said.

  “I’ll get it,” Amelia announced from where she was closer to the door.

  “Me, too,” Sophie echoed, dashing after her sister.

  “I’m not having a strange dog running all over my house,” Belle said.

  “It’s just overnight,” Sam said. “And I won’t let him run loose.”

  “How do we know he’s not dangerous?”

  “I won’t leave him unsupervised with the girls. And he can come to work with me in the morning.”

  “I can smell him from here.”

  Jasmine had noticed in the truck, that the dog was somewhat aromatic.

  “He’ll need a bath before he sleeps in this house,” Belle said.

  Sam seemed taken aback by the suggestion.

  “I can help,” Jasmine quickly offered.

  “Use the steel tub in the garage,” Belle said. “I want you to keep the mess outside the house.”

  “We got an ice cream tub,” Sophie announced, re-entering the room.

  Amelia held the plastic tub in her hands and looked around the kitchen for a place to put it down.

  “Beside the fridge.” Belle directed, seeming to have given into the inevitable. “Take the hamburger patties out of the green container. Make sure you break them into small pieces.”

  Amelia placed the makeshift dog dish, while Sophie opened the fridge, hunting through it.

  “Found it,” she called.

  Jasmine was enjoying the girls’ excitement. At that age, she would have been over the moon to have a dog in the palace. She could imagine she’d have behaved exactly the same way.

  The dog stayed close to Sam, pressing against his leg while the girls ran around. Even when the burgers appeared, and the girls broke them up and dropped them in the dish, the dog stayed put.

  Finished, they stood back and waited expectantly.