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“You can do that here,” she offered. “I really don’t mind. It’s not as if I have any actual guests to look after right now.”

There was something disconsolate behind the brightness of her tone, but that wasn’t his problem. He needed to get to a phone and if she was willing to let him in, he’d accept her offer.

“Okay, thanks.” He wiped his boots on the mat and stepped into the wide hallway. From what he could see nothing had changed in the place since he was a kid. There was a glass chandelier in the center of the ceiling and the wide planked flooring was good local redwood that was probably original to the house. The only difference was that the whole place was decked up like a Christmas wonderland with blinking lights, holly, and at least two more fully decorated trees.

She directed him toward the reception desk to the left side of the hall.

“The landline is there.” She paused, her blond hair illuminated by the light from the chandelier. “Can I get you some coffee? On the house, obviously.”

“That would be great.” He walked over to the desk. There was a list of local numbers right beside the phone, including the one and only taxi service, the hair salon, and the mechanic’s shop.

He called the number, and when no one answered he left a message about his truck and hung up. His gaze swept the ornate furnishings in the front parlor and the heavy fringed drapes that blocked the view of Main Street. It was deadly quiet inside the house, apart from the sound of someone humming as they approached his space.

Little Miss Sunshine smiled brightly as she set the mug of coffee on the desk in front of him.

“Did you get what you needed?”

Now that he thought about it, there was something naggingly familiar about her.

“Nope. My truck stopped running and I can’t get hold of Mike.”

She sighed. “That’s terrible. How are you going to get home?”

“You know who I am?”

“Of course, I do, Caleb.” She looked slightly hurt. “Didn’t you remember me?”

He studied her face and frowned. “Uh, yeah, I guess . . .”

“It’s nothing to worry about.” Her smile dimmed. “I suppose I’ve changed quite a bit, although wehavemet several times over the years when you came back to visit your parents and I was here with Gran. Obviously, I’m quite forgettable.” She drew herself up. “I’m Lucy Smith.”

* * *

This wasn’t quite how Lucy had envisioned meeting Caleb Erickson again. She’d had dreams—many dreams of how he’d see her walking through town, and he’d be struck dumb by her beauty, fall to his knees, and kiss her feet for being such a little shit to her when he was a teenager. Not that he’d been any worse than the other boys, she’d just cared more because she’d always had a horrendous crush on him.

“Lucy Smith?” His brow creased as he considered her. She knew exactly when he remembered her because his expression changed to one of horror. “Little Lucy?”

“I’m five foot four. Just because you’re overgrown doesn’t make me short.”

He angled his head, his gaze dropping from her face to her toes and then back up again.

“Nice apron.”

Her cheeks heated. “It’s one of Gran’s. I borrowed it while I was baking my holiday cookies.”

In fact, she’d hoped some of her grandmother’s legendary cooking magic would rub off on her while she attempted to replicate her recipes. It was Lucy’s first holiday season without her gran, and she was missing her badly.

“Oh!” She pressed her hand to her cheek. “I forgot to put the timer on.”

She ran back toward the kitchen, where the smell of burning already permeated the room. “Darn it!” She grabbed a towel and opened the oven door to discover she’d rolled her gingerbread too thin, and the edges had started to scorch. She set the cookie tray on the side and went to open the window.

“I’ve got it,” Caleb said as he reached right over her head and released the catch on the frame.

“You’re not supposed to be back here,” Lucy pointed out as she hastily removed the failed batch of gingerbread people from the tray before they engraved themselves on the surface forever.

“I’m not a guest.” Caleb was looking around the kitchen as he leaned against the sink. “Not a lot has changed in here.”

“Why change things when they still work?” Lucy asked as she quickly rolled out a new batch of dough and cut the shapes. She couldn’t afford to do anything to the place anyway.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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