Tee the Season (Return to Starlight Bay #23)

Chapter 1

Chapter one

Tabitha

The plastic tubs of Christmas decorations sitting in the children’s reading corner taunt me.

Normally, I look forward to stringing up the lights and hanging ornaments to make the space picture perfect for our annual charity event all season.

But this year, the old cushioned chair on the rainbow rug is calling my name instead.

The one where I used to curl up as a kid when Aunt Mae ran this bookstore.

All I need is five minutes to sink into its worn cushions, close my eyes, take some deep breaths, and pretend December doesn’t exist.

Okay, maybe, ten minutes.

Instead, I kneel, ready to tug off the first tub’s lid, because that’s what responsible small business owners do. Even when they’re running on three hours of sleep and four cups of coffee.

Deck the Halls plays softly through the speakers, mocking my lack of holiday spirit.

I sit back on my heels instead of getting to work, watching the afternoon light filter through the front windows, casting everything in a warm golden glow that makes the old hardwood floors gleam, when the bell above the front door chimes.

I rise and paste on a bright smile before turning to greet another customer. But it’s not a shopper who’s scurried in from the frigid afternoon. It’s Leah.

Even more reason to pretend I’m full of Christmas cheer.

“Hey!” I inject false energy into my voice, gesturing toward the plastic tubs. “Perfect timing.”

I tug off the lid of the first one and grab a string of lights, as if I’d been seconds away from diving in.

“Need some help?” She hands me a steaming gingerbread latte.

I seriously love her.

I accept the paper cup as she shrugs from her coat, with a fresh-faced smile that screams newlywed glow.

“You’re the best.” The relief in my voice is obvious, but I press on, hoping she doesn’t notice, and wave my free hand in the air. “I’m trying to make Storytime with Santa extra magical this year.” I turn away once the familiar, pinch of her brows appears, but apparently, I'm not quick enough.

“You look…” She tilts her head, studying me with those sharp eyes that miss nothing. “Tired.”

I am tired. December is always brutal at the bookstore, but it also accounts for nearly a quarter of our annual revenue. Plus, being down my best employee since Leah left to become Mrs. Hays Granger makes everything twice as hard.

Still, I maintain the facade. “I’m fine. Just trying to get everything perfect for Saturday’s event.”

“Mmm.” She doesn’t buy my lame assurance but lets it slide. “How’s the prep going?”

I take a sip of the sugary, caffeine goodness then set down the latte to climb the rolling ladder with the string of lights. “Good. We’re at three hundred and fifty books already, so I’m hoping to hit five hundred this year.”

“The children’s hospital will be thrilled.”

She’s right. The staff and kids there are so grateful every year, but that’s not why I continue the tradition Aunt Mae started.

“I feel terrible for leaving you short-staffed right before the holidays—”

“Stop.” I cut her off before she can finish that thought. “You’re living your dream. Besides, you’re here now, helping when you could be home with your adoring husband.”

She hands me a section of garland, but the look still lingers. “I’ll have Hays come by. You know, for the heavy lifting. That’s a lot of boxes, and I bet that cupboard door in your kitchen is still hanging off its hinge, too.”

Damn, she knows me well. But before I can protest that I’ve got everything under control, she cuts me off.

“And don’t give me the whole ‘I’ve got it’ business. You know it wouldn’t kill you to accept some help sometimes.”

I heave a sigh. She’s probably right. It’s just that I’m used to being alone and handling anything and everything myself since Aunt Mae’s stroke.

“I could use some help with the boxes,” I admit, stretching to reach the corner hook for the lights.

“Consider it done. Hays would be happy to give you a hand.”

“Thanks.” I shoot her a smile as she hands me another string of lights.

“Is old Mr. Patterson all set to play Santa again this year?” she asks, glancing toward the window where fat snowflakes have started falling.

“He still claims it’s the highlight of the season.”

I think of Aunt Mae’s face every year when Mr. Patterson settles into that reading chair in his red suit.

The way her eyes light up, how she always makes sure to get a photo with him.

She’s had a thing for Santa since I was a kid.

Not for Mr. Patterson specifically, just for the whole Santa vibe.

The deep voice, the authority figure, the generous spirit, and knowing smile.

I can see it. There’s something about a man who knows if you’ve been naughty or nice, who delivers exactly what's on your wish list, that’s unmistakably sexy, but I shake off the thought as Leah continues.

“I saw him at the post office last week with a cane, and with the weather forecast…” She trails off.

My hands still. “What forecast?”

I’ve been so busy I haven’t even checked the news.

“Nor’easter. They’re saying it could dump two feet starting tomorrow night.”

I groan as unease slithers through me. The event is in three days. “Hopefully, they’re wrong.”

Leah fiddles with the ribbon on one of the fake presents as I climb down the ladder and pluck one end of a long pine garland from the next tub.

I get the sense she wants to tell me something but is hesitating.

She looks around, as if making sure there’s no one within earshot.

Maybe, she’s pregnant. My grip tightens as the idea blossoms. She’s not drinking a latte…

Suddenly, I’m full of energy.

“What’s new with you?” I try to be casual, but her gaze snaps to mine. I don’t know why I thought she wouldn’t pick up on the excitement in my tone; after all, my best friend can read me like a book.

“Actually, I stopped by to—”

“To tell me you’re pregnant!” I exclaim, dropping the garland, my eyes wide.

“What? No,” she replies, confusion sweeping over her features. “I’m not pregnant.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“You know I’ll make the best auntie when you have a little one, though, right?”

She rolls her eyes. “You’ve only told me that a dozen times since Hays and I got engaged.”

I huff and pick up a snowflake ornament. “I only mentioned it once. Or maybe twice.”

“But, speaking of auntie’s… I actually stopped by to invite you to dinner tomorrow night.” There’s something in her tone that makes my pulse skip.

“Okay,” I reply, drawing out the word as I try to puzzle out why she’s making a big deal of a dinner invitation when we get together at least once a week, either at her place or at mine upstairs.

“Rory’s going to be there.”

The ceramic stack of books ornament slips from my fingers, but I scramble to catch it before it hits the ground.

“Rory? In Starlight Bay?” Something flutters in my chest. It’s probably just indigestion from the leftover chicken casserole I scarfed down an hour ago.

“Just for a couple of days. Apparently, he and Hays do their annual planning for the upcoming season this time of year.” She’s observing my reaction. “I thought it might be nice, the four of us. But only if it’s not weird.”

I force myself to hang the ornament with steady hands, despite the way my heart knocks against my ribs. “Why would it be weird?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Leah’s voice is dry. “Maybe, because you two had mind-blowing—”

“It was one night,” I interrupt, cutting her off. I climb back up the ladder to give myself something to do with my hands. “We’re both adults. We’d had some drinks, danced, and then had some fun. End of story.”

“Right. Fun.” She hands me another ornament. This time, it’s a snowflake made from pages of poetry. “So dinner’s fine?”

I stretch to reach the top of the shelf, grateful for the excuse to turn away from her too-knowing gaze. “Of course. That night meant nothing.”

The words slip out before I can stop them, and Leah’s tone is telling when she asks, “So, no chance of round two, then?”

My thighs clench, but I shake my head. Firmly. “We agreed it was a one-time thing.”

She’s quiet, and when I risk a peek at her, a Cheshire Cat grin fills her face. “Even though you haven’t dated anyone since your…fun?”

Heat creeps up my neck. “There aren’t exactly a plethora of eligible bachelors in Starlight Bay, you know,” I insist, a tad too defensively. “At least, not any I haven’t known since I had braces.”

“True,” she agrees.

“Plus,” I add, waving a hand, “I’m sure I was just another notch on the old belt for Mr. World Traveler. No doubt, he’s had plenty of rounds with plenty of women in plenty of time zones since that night.”

“Actually,” Leah says quietly, handing me up another snowflake, “he hasn’t.”

I still. “What?”

“I overheard Hays on the phone the other day giving Rory shit about being uptight. Asked him when the last time was he got laid, and Rory admitted it’d been, quote, ‘a few months.’”

I swallow down the unnamed emotion that bubbles up in my chest. That could mean anything. And certainly isn’t something I should read anything into.

“Maybe,” she adds wistfully, “you guys will hit it off and actually start dating.”

The incredulous look I shoot her is enough to convey my thoughts on her wishful thinking.

“What?” she defends. “Just because Rory is Hays’s caddy and best friend—”

“And leads a completely different life than I do.”

“Hays and I did, too, you know. Before—”

“Sleeping together is one thing; dating is another. Plus, you can travel with Hays when the season starts. I can’t just abandon the bookstore. Or Aunt Mae. She’s the only family I have left.”

“I know.” Leah’s voice is gentle. “But Rory’s a good guy. I know the tour and globetrotting make him seem like a player—”

“And that we had a one-night stand—”

“But he’s not. He’s loyal, honest, caring…”

I scoff. “You’re starting to sound like a dating profile.”

She laughs but doesn’t back down. “I’m serious. You two have more in common than you think.”

Like what? A talent for avoiding commitment?

But I don’t say that. Instead, I check my watch and realize there’s only an hour until closing and the children’s corner doesn’t look nearly as magical as it has in years past.

“So, dinner tomorrow? Seven o’clock?” Leah says, bumping me with her shoulder.

“I’ll be there.” And for some reason, I’m already thinking about what I’m going to wear.