Chapter Twelve
Caleb fiddled with the lock. The old thing was finnicky on a good day.
The door creaked open, and he got a whiff of a familiar Christmassy scent.
The room spray used at the lodge. He ducked his head in and found his apartment had been tidied by either Sabrina or his mother.
Normally, he hated their interference, but just this once, he was glad for it.
He turned to Emma, finding a distant look in her eyes. He cleared his throat. “Um, I just realized that inviting you to my apartment might’ve come off weird. I hope I didn’t overstep. I really do just want my hat.”
Emma’s eyes snapped to focus. “Sorry? I was thinking about that shop. I don’t think it’s weird that you invited me up here.”
He cleared his throat. Well, maybe this feeling was one-sided, then. He could’ve sworn there was something between the two of them. Instead of dwelling on that, he pushed open the door.
“It’ll take me just a second to grab a hat. Provided my mom didn’t rearrange things the last time she was here.”
Emma stepped inside and looked around.
Late morning sunlight streamed in through the parted curtains. The left-hand side of the room was a brick wall, with windows stacked on top of each other. The drafts could be a real bitch this time of year.
The building was old, but his apartment had been redone by Ellis & Daughter as a rental property some years back. The style was all Sabrina’s. Slick subway tile in the kitchen, wooden butcher-block counters. She’d refinished the old floors. They looked nice, but still creaked every time he moved.
“Wow. This is such a nice space for a bachelor pad.”
He snorted as the front door swung shut on its own. Another lovely feature of living in a hundred-and-forty-year-old building.
“My kids live here every other weekend, so it’s not quite the bachelor pad you think. As you can see, there’s no closet, so all my things are in my room. I’ll be right back.” He headed down the hall.
“Don’t worry, I’ll have a nose around while you’re not watching,” she called after him.
He chuckled to himself. She was something else.
He rushed past his daughters’ half-open bedroom door.
Peeking in, it was confirmed that it was his mother who’d been there.
She’d left gifts on each of the girls’ beds.
His mother and the other biddies fundraised every Christmas to wrap presents for town folks, so there was no missing her signature style, complete with ribbons and string galore.
And the tags were signed with love from Mimi and Gramps.
He left the room before he could get too emotional about missing his kids. Funny how, since he’d started working at the lodge, the wound ached a little less.
Emma’s presence didn’t hurt, either. He half-wondered if she felt the same. Were they both working on healing a heartache?
He grabbed a hat out of his top drawer and walked back to the living room.
There, he found Emma half-bent over, looking at photos atop the old wooden mantle.
The fireplace hadn’t worked since the Reagan administration, but the old mantle did look nice, especially with his mother’s handmade stockings hanging with care.
Emma turned when he approached. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear a woman lived here.” She spoke with a teasing tone, no malice.
“That woman is my mother. She gave my place a clean. She’s kind of a pain in the ass, but what are you going to do?
She’s not the toxic, overbearing type, if you were worried.
She respects my boundaries most of the time.
” He realized what he’d said and began to stutter.
“Uh, why would you be worried? Sorry, that was weird. Again. I’ve got to stop doing that. ”
Emma rose to standing. “It’s not weird.” She arched an eyebrow before reaching for a photo of his girls. “Which one’s which?”
It took him a second to process that request as his brain whirled around like he’d just gotten off a carnival ride. Was she flirting with him?
He cleared his throat. “The older one is Emerson. She’s five. Poppy is two and a half.”
She touched the corner of the frame. “They’re freaking adorable.”
He tugged on his hat. “This is the longest I’ll ever have gone without seeing them. But my ex and I are a pretty good team. There are rough patches, of course. But that’s parenting.”
Emma set the frame back on the mantle. “So, where are we going next?”
He took a half-step toward her. “I was thinking we could stop by The Peculiar Pumpkin. Brandon used to own it before he and Sabrina opened the lodge.”
She bumped against his chest. “Oof, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
Without thinking, his hand came to her cheek, still rosy from the cold.
Her beauty overtook him. She gazed up at him, her eyes bright, mouth parted. He rubbed his thumb against her cheek.
“Emma, if you don’t mind, I’d really like to kiss you.”
Once, Emma had wondered if she’d ever feel butterflies again. She’d assumed that they died off the longer you were with someone. It was natural, given the complexities of daily living.
But the way Caleb looked at her—there was no business there. All butterflies.
She realized she’d been staring at him without saying a word. It was his fault for having the kind of hazel eyes you could get lost in.
He cleared his throat and started to step away. “I’m sorry. I meant it when I said I invited you up here with no ill intention. I guess I…”
He trailed off as Emma brought her index finger to his lips. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you don’t strike me as the type to be underhanded, Caleb. If you wanted to kiss me, you would’ve done it in the van, on the street corner…or here.”
He reached for her hand and cradled it against his. “You’re right about that.”
Their eyes locked in another moment before Caleb leaned down, taking her face in his hands.
“Last chance to back out.”
Their eyes met. She exhaled and brought her hands to the front of his coat, pulling him closer as the kiss quickly deepened. Caleb kept one hand on her face, and the other looped around her waist, leaving no space between them.
Her feet came off the ground as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
It was as if time slowed down. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been kissing when he pulled away, leaving her gasping for air. “Why did you stop?”
He dropped her back to the ground before taking a step back. “I…don’t know what got into me.”
Emma rubbed at her newly bruised lips. “I think we both know what got into you. Please don’t overthink this, Caleb. That kiss was enough to build a dream on, but it doesn’t have to be anything if you don’t want it to be. I’m just here for the holiday, probably, maybe, remember?”
The words were half true to her. But he didn’t need to know that. The last thing she wanted to do was freak him out by saying Falling Leaves felt like home.
Especially if he was merely interested in a holiday fling. Caleb was a proper grown-up, complete with kids! She wasn’t sure she was ready for what came with that sort of relationship.
As if he could read her mind, he said, “I’m not the casual type, Emma.
I’ve had three girlfriends in my entire life, going back to middle school.
Sure, I’ve dated casually here and there—mostly setups by my friends and family.
But I don’t do things halfway. I don’t want there to be a problem between us. ”
He was so thoughtful that it bordered on being sweet and almost annoying. This was not a man who would break her heart on purpose, which made her want him even more.
She stepped closer to him. “I would like for you to kiss me again, Caleb. But I understand if you’d rather not right now.
Did you want to go to the Pumpkin place?
The inn? That sounds fun.” She rested her hand on the crook of his arm.
She could sense the muscle there even under several layers of winter clothing.
He slipped his hat over his dark hair. “I think that would be fun. But I’d also understand if—”
“Caleb. You did nothing wrong. I’ve known you for three days, and that’s long enough to know you’re an honorable man. I like spending time with you.” She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
“See? That time, it was me. Now come on, I’m dying to see what a Halloween-themed inn looks like all decorated for Christmas.”
She turned for the door, Caleb’s soft laugh echoing behind her. “Whatever you say, Emma.”
By the time they stepped back onto a frigid Silver Spring Street, any awkwardness had passed. She tugged her gloves back on as Caleb took her hand, leading her to the crosswalk.
“I don’t know why they have this—nearly everyone in town jaywalks.” He nodded to a group of tourists, giggling as they ran across to the other side of the street.
“Well, if you’ve got one stoplight, it makes sense that there would be a crosswalk to go with it,” Emma said.
She allowed him to lead her across the street. The Peculiar Pumpkin was catty-cornered to them. The grand old Victorian house stood apart from the others in town, with its black paint and violet shutters.
Caleb pointed to the house. “The Peculiar Pumpkin is an institution in this town. It was one of the first tourist attractions, back when this was just a place you stopped to get gas on the way to Roanoke.”
“Was it like that when you were a kid? Or was it already charming?”
They stopped before the B&B, sidestepping a group of elderly tourists.
“Eh, it was rustically charming, I guess. Many of the houses were in disrepair. That’ll happen when a lot of them are more than a hundred years old. The town didn’t get this charming until about ten years ago, when Mayor Ford was elected. He’s really helped turn the place around.”
They stepped onto the covered porch. Emma took in the black Christmas tree, which was adorned with red, black and green ornaments.
“They stay on theme at the Pumpkin,” Caleb said.
No sooner had he finished speaking than one of the double doors to the inn swung open. A stunning redhead stepped out, a toddler on her hip.
“Caleb Ellis, I heard a rumor that you may be making your way over here.” Her accent was as thick as honey.
“Given that gossip spreads like butter in this town, I’m not surprised,” Caleb deadpanned. He turned to Emma. “This is Merit Westmore. She and her husband run several hotels around the world, but the Pumpkin is their home base.”
The little girl reached across her mother for Caleb. “Ca-Ca,” she said.
Emma snorted as Caleb laughed. “It’s an unfortunate nickname. But little Lakyn seems to like me.”
Merit passed her daughter over to Caleb, who, of course, was a natural. “I think Lakyn knows he’s a girl dad, huh, baby girl?”
Emma watched as Caleb bobbed the little girl in his arms.
Caleb already had children. Since she’d never wanted any kids of her own, it’d always been a somewhat tricky subject to navigate. Because to share her reasoning meant having to delve into her own childhood trauma. Not that she was getting ahead of herself or anything. They’d simply kissed.
Merit’s voice cut into her thoughts. “You have any kids of your own, Emma?”
She shook her head. She’d learned to avoid the subject until she got to know someone well. Which meant she should tell Caleb at some point. If he wanted this thing between them to be more than a kiss.
Caleb handed the little girl back to her mother, his eyes carefully on Emma. “How about we go inside and get something to warm up? The Frosted Squash has a fantastic lunch special today.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Merit walked ahead of them through the door. Caleb held it open for them with one hand, and with his other, he reached for Emma’s.
She looked up at him, finding comfort in his touch and his soft expression. Of all the extraordinary things that had occurred in the last seventy-two hours, she wondered if this feeling would lose its shine the longer she was around him.
But as he pulled her closer as they stepped into the lobby, Emma decided that, for now, she was done worrying about what might be.
Fate had brought her to this place and literally into the path of this man.
“You okay, Emma? You looked a little far away back there.”
Emma gazed up at the chandelier in the lobby. The little crystal droplets threw light around the cozy space.
“Oh, don’t you worry about me. I was just…thinking. About things.” She grinned at him. It wasn’t exactly a lie. Her brain had replayed a slow-mo of their kiss between her worries.
“Yes, things.” He slipped a hand onto her hip.
Butterflies took flight once more.