A Christmas in Connecticut Read online

  She walked through the dining room into the kitchen. It was cute with a capital C. The cupboards were a light robin’s egg blue, the counter tops were polished white stone, brass pendent lights illuminated the huge butcher block island. It’s too bad I don’t really cook. But it will definitely help gin up my imagination when writing cooking posts. She smiled and snapped off the light. After retrieving the last two bags from her car, she investigated the main bedroom.

  Claire beamed from ear to ear when she caught sight of the room. She admired the iron headboard, the bed layered with fluffy white and navy quilts. The two side tables and dresser were the same blue as the kitchen cabinets. Brass lamps flanked each side of the bed and a large, brass framed, ornate mirror leaned against one wall. “I made the right decision,” she said aloud just before plopping down on the bed. It was even softer than it looked. She spent the next hour emptying some of her suitcases before deciding it was time for bed.

  After changing into her pajamas and brushing her teeth, she fished her phone from her purse and read the text message that had just come in:

  Emmy: Call me as soon as you’re settled…I can’t wait to hear about it!!!!!

  Claire phoned her friend.

  “So…is it what you imagined?” Emmy’s voice was bubbly.

  “Yes, and more. You have no idea, it’s such a different world than L.A., it’s so quiet for one thing. Oh…and the house is adorbs! I’m already inspired, I’ll probably be able to write months’ worth of content here.”

  “That’s awesome, Claire. You deserve some happiness after the year you’ve had.”

  “Thank you, sweetie. I’ll miss you,” Claire said quietly.

  “I’ll miss you too…hey, I’m dying to know…did you meet up with Zachary?”

  Zachary had contacted Claire a couple of days before she left. He’d left a voice mail saying he wanted to see her…just to “talk.” Except she and Zachary never “just talked” without ending up in bed. Sex had been the glue that joined them together. They had chemistry that worked. Really worked. But after Claire’s parents had died, the rubber met the road, and the sex alone could no longer hold the relationship together. Zachary hadn’t understood her depression. “Snap out of it,” or “pull yourself up by your bootstraps,” he would say, whatever the hell that meant. He bristled when she told him she’d seen a psychiatrist who’d prescribed anti-depressants for her. He acted as if not having the internal fortitude to just “get over it” without professional help was a weakness. It had been a deal breaker for Claire.

  “I didn’t. As tempting as it was, and as badly as I need to have sex again,” she sighed aloud, “I told him no.”

  “Good girl, I’m proud of you. Maybe some long walks in the crisp New England air will relieve that tension.”

  Claire doubted a walk would do the trick.

  “Keep in touch and text me lots of pictures,” Emmy said.

  She and Claire talked for a few more minutes before hanging up. Claire snuggled down into the bed and read a book until she felt tired and snapped off the light. Except her mind wouldn’t turn off. She was thinking about Zachary. Specifically, sex with Zachary. The sex had been outstanding. It was the one thing she really missed. Just thinking about him in bed got her revved up. Maybe a good orgasm was what the situation called for, so she could relax and get some sleep.

  She snapped the light back on and swung out of the warm bed. She rooted around in a suitcase she hadn’t yet unpacked. Where is it? Finally, her hand wrapped around the vibrator before pulling it out from under some sweaters. She’d tried to hide it just in case her bag needed to be inspected at the airport. She didn’t need some TSA agent giving her a raised eyebrow and judging look. Claire snapped the switch on and…nothing. She snapped it back on and off several times and still…nothing.

  “Damn it.”

  She silently added batteries to her list of things to pick up the next day and glumly got back into bed…alone.

  “You’re a lifesaver, Jack. Thank you.”

  Jack stepped into his sister Beth’s home, handing her the small brown bag.

  “Where’s Tyler?”

  Tyler was Beth’s husband of four years. He worked for a big pharmaceutical company out of Boston, splitting his time between working from home and being on the road either to Boston or elsewhere.

  “Business trip to Austin. Can I get you a bowl also?” Beth yelled out from the kitchen.

  “Nah…I’m good,” Jack replied.

  Passed out on the couch was Beth’s Scottie dog, Archie. The dog opened one eye, let out a snort, and went back to sleep.

  Jack walked back into the kitchen and sat at the counter. “How many weeks are you now?” He’d swear she was having twins, though he was smart enough not to say that out loud. Beth had practically torn off the head of the last person who’d asked if she was carrying twins.

  She sat down next to him. “Thirty-two weeks…the finish line is in sight.” She took a bite of her ice cream, her eyes practically rolling back in her head as she ate it. “I don’t know why—but it can only be Belgian chocolate…nothing else will do. Luckily Marty keeps it stocked.” Marty was Martin Larson, the fourth-generation owner of the only market in town, River Falls Grocery. “I just didn’t have the energy to put on real shoes over my swollen feet and try to squeeze behind the wheel of the car.” She pointed with her elbow down to her feet, which looked like loafs of bread in her socks.

  “Is that much swelling normal?” Jack asked.

  “I don’t know. I have an appointment with Doc Wooden tomorrow morning. I’m tempted to wear slippers when I go.” She ate the last bite of ice cream.

  “Christmas is going to be hard this year, isn’t it?” Jack asked. It would be their first holiday without their dad. Thanksgiving had been rough, but Christmas was the holiday where their dad would truly be missed. He had always embraced the season wholeheartedly and pulled out all the stops to make it magical. He even dressed up as Santa Claus when they were kids. Beth had shared the news of her pregnancy a few weeks before he died. He had been ecstatic about becoming a grandpa.

  Beth reached out and touched Jack’s sleeve. “I want to do everything in my power to honor Dad. I want to embrace Christmas just as he would have…I refuse to have it be ho-hum because we’re sad he’s not here. Let’s make it special, Jack. Between you, me, and Tyler, we can do this. Margie always brings a dish…maybe I can get her to do more.”

  “She can barely see anymore…I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, I’m pretty sure I saw her having a conversation with her trash can the other day.”

  Margie was the eighty-eight-year-old widow who lived across the street. She didn’t have any family close to her, so when her husband died ten years ago, they’d always invited her over for Christmas dinner.

  Jack looked around the kitchen. “The remodel really turned out nice.”

  “It did. I was hesitant to change it at first, since it was the kitchen we’d grown up in after all, but it was time.” After their father passed away, Beth and Tyler had moved into the family home. Their dad had had little to leave them, just the house and the hardware store. Jack and Beth were on title to both. They hadn’t worked out anything official, but for now Jack was fine with her and Tyler living there. It felt like the right thing to do.

  “Let’s coordinate about Christmas and come up with a plan. I want to fill the house with as much Christmas spirit as possible. I’ve been bookmarking some blog posts for inspiration. Let me get my iPad and I can show you some of what I had in mind,” Beth said.

  Jack watched as she waddled to the living room, returning with her iPad in hand.

  “I looooove this woman.” She shoved the screen in front of Jack’s face. “Isn’t she adorable! You need a woman like this, Jack.”

  He stared at the woman in the photo. She had shoulder length light brown hair, big brown eyes, some freckles on her nose and a beautiful, slightly crooked smile. “Yeah, she’s cute,” Jack responded as
he continued to look at the image.

  “Remember those loaded chocolate chip cookies I would send you? I got the recipe from her blog.”

  “Those were good…some guys were offering to buy them from me.” Jack remembered the chocolate chip cookies loaded with bits of crunchy, salty pretzels…a combination that tasted like heaven.

  “Any hoo…she’s got loads of great Christmas ideas in here.”

  “What’s her name?” Jack asked. He wasn’t interested in the holiday ideas…just the woman. She had that rare combination of cute and sexy all in one.

  “Claire Bennett. The name of the blog is City Meets Country. She has the cutest ideas…and the best recipes. I’ll start making a list of projects and menu items.” Beth’s soft curls bounced as she excitedly talked to Jack.

  “You’re right…let’s do Dad proud this year,” he said. He kissed his sister on the forehead and then headed home.

  Jack couldn’t get the cute brunette off his mind. He hadn’t had a girlfriend when he’d left for Afghanistan six years earlier, which meant he didn’t have one now either. The hope was a new life in Hartford would offer opportunities to meet someone. In River Falls, he knew practically everyone, and either the women weren’t his type, or if they were, they weren’t available, which kind of sucked because Jack really missed not having a partner. He also missed having sex. Yeah…it sucked. He drove home, the image of Claire Bennett firmly planted in his brain.

  Chapter 3

  Jack was taking inventory of the stock in the back room. It was becoming clearer every day that his dad’s business acumen had been non-existent. He still wasn’t sure whether he could save the store or not. If he could get it into the black, enough to provide a livable wage for himself and some profit for Beth, he’d be okay with spending his life in River Falls. It wasn’t what he imagined he’d be doing with his life, but he’d never imagined his dad not being around. He’d only been seventy-four, and was healthy, at least he seemed so. Jack had pictured his dad running the store for another ten or fifteen years, but the universe had other plans, and Harry had suffered a massive heart attack and was gone “like that.” One moment he was here, the next moment gone forever.

  “Cute out-of-towner just walked in…you should go check ‘er out,” Hank said, walking into the storage area, pointing his thumb back towards the store. He had a sly grin on his face and a gleam in his eyes. He always told Jack whenever an attractive woman walked into the store, acting as an unofficial wingman.

  “Oh, okay,” Jack replied, bemused. “What makes you say she’s an out of towner?”

  “She’s wearing a Dodgers’ cap.”

  Hank was right. No one from River Falls would be caught dead in a Dodgers’ cap…it was Red Sox or nothing. But just the mention of the Dodgers’ cap took him right back to Afghanistan. He’d overseen a group of soldiers, and one of them, private Robbie Martinez, had been a huge Dodgers’ fan. When he wasn’t wearing his combat helmet, he had that damn baseball cap on. Jack’s heart felt as if it was made of lead as it sunk in his chest at the memory of Robbie. He’d watched as the car Robbie was in was blown to bits by a roadside bomb. It was the only man he’d lost, but it was one too many and it haunted Jack. He shook himself back into the present. He looked at his watch. “Okay, I’ll come man the register while you take your lunch.”

  Jack walked out to the front of the store and spotted her instantly. It wasn’t too hard. The Dodgers’ cap was only the first clue that she wasn’t from around here. The second being the ridiculous shoes she had on; they appeared to be clogs. With ice in the forecast, anything that wasn’t firmly attached to your foot could be deadly if you walked on a stretch of black ice. She was cute…and had nice curves, Jack thought as he admired her from the side. She was standing in front of the display of batteries. Her nose wrinkled as she examined different sizes, seemingly weighing them in her hand before returning them to the display. He returned his focused to the balance sheet he was working on.

  Claire stood in front of the display full of batteries. Stupidly, she hadn’t bothered to check what size the vibrator required before popping into the hardware store. She was that desperate to get it up and running. Claire, you’re a ding-dong. She could go back home and check, but she had so many other stops to make…if she could only make an educated guess as to the size needed. The old, grizzled guy who’d asked her if she needed help had left, and a young, very attractive guy had taken his place behind the register. Claire tried discreetly to steal glances at him while she continued to inspect the batteries. He had dark blond hair, a chiseled jaw with a couple of days' worth of stubble on it, and friendly eyes. She was admiring the muscles from his biceps straining through his plaid flannel shirt, the sleeves were rolled up and revealed sexy forearms. She began to feel a bit flushed and lightheaded. To steady herself, she leaned against the display. With a loud crash, the entire thing went over, with Claire on top of it.

  “Are you okay?” Mr. Biceps had come rushing over and was holding out his hand for her to grab.

  Oh my god, how embarrassing. “I’m fine…but your display isn’t.” She got up with his help and surveyed the mess. “I’ll help clean it up,” Claire said, motioning to the mess of batteries lying everywhere, the display was reduced to a heap of cardboard.

  “Don’t worry about it, we were going to get a new one anyway.”

  “You were?” She looked at him with a smile.

  “No. I just didn’t want you to feel bad.” He gave her a smile back that melted her entire core. Up close, his light blue eyes grabbed her. She could feel her cheeks start to flush again.

  “What are you trying to find?”

  “Um…I was just,” she felt her heart speed up. Think Claire. Think. “Um…just batteries for my…my flashlight.” Good save!

  “Easy. What size are we talking about?”

  Claire was trying not to stare at his incredibly sexy lips. “What?”

  “What size? Are we talking key chain size? Or a big heavy-duty mag?” He looked at her.

  “The size…of my flashlight?” she replied as she continued to stare at him. Her face was now beet red. “Um…something in between?” She squeaked out.

  “You could always bring it in. That way you’d be sure to get the right battery for it.” He stood in front of her, his hands—big manly hands—rested on his jeans that were snug against his body.

  “Bring it in? I…uh…I think I’ll just write the size down and come back.” She looked into his eyes…damn sexy eyes. She watched as his expression gradually changed.

  “I know you…you’re her,” he said excitedly.

  “Her—who?” Claire replied quizzically.

  “The blog…Country Meets City,” he said, pointing a finger towards her.

  “City Meets Country, actually. Yeah, that’s me. Claire Bennett.” She knew their blog was popular, and occasionally someone in L.A. would recognize her, but a guy…in a small New England town recognizing her? What were the odds?

  “Right, City Meets Country.” He smiled as he crossed his arms across his chest. “My sister loves your blog. She used to make one of your cookie recipes and send them to me while I was in Afghanistan. Loaded chocolate chip.”

  “Those are good. That’s so sweet, thank you.”

  “I’m Jack Wilson,” he said as he took her hand. As soon as he did, Claire felt a sensation race through her body at the touch of his warm hand around hers.

  “As in Wilson’s Hardware Wilson?”

  “Yeah—it’s a family business…it’s been a part of River Falls for a long time.”

  They stood quietly for a moment. Jack nodded down to her clogs. “We’re expecting ice to form later today.”

  She looked down at her shoes before looking back up at him. “And?”

  “Well, you might want something more secure. I’m not sure those would stay on if you hit an icy patch of pavement.”

  “These? I’ll be fine…my toes grip to keep them on…plus they’re lined in she
arling, totally warm. Well, I better get going…sorry again about your display.” She grabbed her purse, that was lying on the ground. “I’ll be back…with the battery size,” she said as she fled the store.

  “Bye,” he’d called out to her as she slipped through the doors and into the fresh air.

  Once she was back in her car, she sorted her thoughts. God, he was gorgeous. Even though the temperature was only 30 degrees, Claire grabbed some papers from the glovebox and fanned her heated face. Really gorgeous…and damn sexy.

  “Jiminy Christmas. What happened here?” Hank was pointing to the scattered batteries and destroyed display.

  “Country…city…looking for batteries,” Jack murmured.

  Hank’s brows narrowed as he stared at Jack. “What? Are you okay?”

  “She…uh…just…it fell,” Jack said as he nodded to the mess.

  “Did Dodger cap do this?”

  Jack was thinking about Claire. There was something about her. She felt familiar already, and not because of the blog. She was adorable and sexy as hell. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He looked up at Hank, who was surveying the damage and nodded his head.

  “Where are we going to put the batteries now?” Hank asked as he picked up the completely crushed display from the ground.

  “Don’t know. I’ll think of something,” Jack murmured. But all he could think of was Claire.

  Claire had just finished her shopping at the only market in River Falls. The selection had been high quality, if not limited. Not that she’d really been paying attention. All her brain cells were focused exclusively on Jack and his biceps. She couldn’t stop thinking about what they would look like out of that shirt, or how’d they feel wrapped around her body. She had her arms loaded down with two reusable shopping bags filled to the brim with groceries and some household items. She was busy rooting around in her purse for the keys with one hand while the other held onto both bags. She smiled again at the thought of him. How adorable he was, being all concerned about her clogs. Pffft…she’d worn these through three days of Coachella…a little cold weather wouldn’t be a—