Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Alice couldn’t believe it. She’d heard bells ring when Foster kissed her. Literal bells.

She’d kissed her share of men in her time and not once had a choir of angels sang or romantic music swelled in the background like in the movies. But this time... she actually heard bells. Jingle bells to be exact. Just like the kind she’d hung on her Christmas tree Sunday afternoon. The magical wishing ornament.

She’d almost put the ornament and its enigmatic peddler out of her mind. Alice was too busy to dwell on what was likely a sales tactic when there were so many other things going on. But now, the little golden bell was front and center in her mind. Was the sound of bells a sign? Was the magical music telling her that despite his protests, Foster Robinson was the Santa Claus she’d wished for?

“Miss Jordan?”

Alice pulled her tablet to her chest and snapped out of her thoughts. “Yes?”

The crowd of men standing around the lawn out front of the courthouse were all looking at her expectantly. The one closest to her pointed to the twenty-foot Christmas tree they’d just put up. “How’s it look, ma’am?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. It looks great,” Alice said with her best smile. Tuesday afternoon’s task was to get the tree up and lit. She needed to focus on her work and stop daydreaming about some magical wishing bell and yesterday’s kiss. “You can go ahead and get started on the decorations.”

The man nodded and returned to where the others were standing around with tall ladders and huge crates of the city’s lights and ornaments. He gave them the thumbs up and they started unrolling the long strands of lights to wrap around the tree.

This was one task Alice didn’t do herself, thankfully. She was not a fan of heights and there was a lovely landscaping company in Rosewood that was always happy to put up the décor around town in their slow season.

With a sigh, she slipped down onto a park bench and watched. They wouldn’t finish tonight, but they would probably get the lights up and be able to test them. Ornaments could go on tomorrow. Saturday night after the parade would be the official tree lighting ceremony. It was a big event with almost everyone in town showing up to see it. Mayor Gallagher would say a few scripted words Alice wrote, hit a big, fake button, the tree would light up, and everyone would cheer. It was the traditional kick off to Christmas in Rosewood.

And standing right next to Mayor Otto was supposed to be the jolly man, himself. She had to find a replacement for Leo, and soon.

It was hard to focus on that, though. Alice had a million things to do, but her mind kept drifting back to the coffee shop and that kiss. She still wasn’t certain why he’d done it. He said he was trying to prove his point. Not terribly romantic, but she couldn’t complain too much. A bigger worry for her was how the kiss had made her feel. Bells aside, her whole body had responded to Foster’s touch. It had made parts of her tingle that she’d nearly forgotten she had.

Foster was the first man she’d been attracted to in a long time. And of course, any feelings she had for him would be doomed from the start. He was only in Rosewood because he was essentially on house arrest watching his father. Once the new year came around, Foster would be headed back to Nashville and he would forget all about her.

Typical Alice, she sighed, to want something that she couldn’t have. She needed to stick to work. She was much better at her job than she was at relationships.

“That’s a pretty impressive tree.”

She snapped her head around and found the object of her thoughts standing beside her on the sidewalk. He was looking up at the tree, dressed in a leather jacket and jeans that fit remarkably well. “It is. Rosewood has put up a tree in the square every year since nineteen-fifty-seven, but this is the biggest one yet.”

Foster sat down on the bench beside her, his shoulder brushing her arm. Even through the wool of her coat she could feel the heat of him so close. The scent of the leather coat mingled with the earthy male scent of his skin, making her squirm a bit on the hard bench.

“I remember the tree here when I was a kid. Since we lived just off the square, my parents and I would walk around the park and look at the lights almost every night after dinner. In my mind, the tree was gigantic back then, but I imagine I was just smaller. This one reminds me of the ones they put up at the Opryland Hotel. Have you ever been there at Christmas?”

“No,” she admitted. “I’ve never been to Nashville.”

“Oh, well,” he smiled. “They really do it all up. The hotel itself is gigantic, with these big, glass atriums and indoor gardens. There’s a life-sized manger scene out on the lawn. Every year they do a different carved ice display with a slide you can go down. There’s even a giant gingerbread house.”

Alice noticed a curious light in his eyes as he talked about the hotel. Perhaps he didn’t hate the holidays as much as he’d claimed. “For someone who doesn’t do Christmas, you know an awful lot about it,” she noted.

Foster nodded. “I know. I went to a writer’s convention that was hosted there in early December. It didn’t even occur to me that it would be done up for the holidays, but I do have eyes, so I couldn’t not see it. Even I have to admit it was beautiful for what it was. And I was tempted by the ice slide. How often do you run across one of those?”

“Almost never,” Alice agreed. “It sounds like you really like living in Nashville.”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “It’s the same as anywhere else. I moved there to go to school and when it was done, I stayed. The most important thing for me was to not be here. That left a lot of options. Nashville suits me fine.”

“This will be a long month for you, then. The town you hate during the holiday you despise.”

Foster turned to look at her. “It hasn’t been so bad. I’ve been pleasantly distracted.”

Alice felt the tingly sensation start again when he looked into her eyes and gave a knowing grin. “It’s only day four,” she warned. “I’m not sure I’m interesting enough to distract you for twenty-six more days.”

“If you’re willing, I sure would like to try.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to that. She very much wanted to be his distraction, but this wasn’t the best month for her. And come January? He was looking at her so intensely, January was suddenly not nearly as important as the here and now. And now, she really wanted him to kiss her. And he looked like he was going to.

But not in front of the team working only a few feet away. She panicked, turning away from Foster to look at the tree in progress. “We can see. You’ve got a twenty-four-seven charge and you know how busy things are for me.”

“You’re one of the most dedicated workers I’ve ever met.” His words were complimentary, but his tone was not.

“Well, if I don’t do my job,” she explained, “Christmas will be ruined for all the little girls and boys in Rosewood. It’s motivating. So even if I want to, I won’t be able to help you fill all the hours. But maybe some.”

Foster nodded. “I’ll take what I can get.”

Alice felt his arm brush the outside of her thigh as he reached out to take her hand. It engulfed her own and made her wish she wasn’t wearing gloves so she could feel his skin against hers.

“You’re already a happy distraction for me. I’ve had my fill of the holiday spirit today,” Foster said. “Dad insisted I take him to the Christmas tree farm so he could pick out one for the house. He couldn’t get one from the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly, of course, so I got the joy of chopping down a tree.”

“You didn’t tie it to the roof of the Mustang, did you?”

“Heavens no,” he laughed with an expression of mock horror lighting up his face. “Even if I enjoyed Christmas, I wouldn’t do that. No, I drove my dad’s truck. Then I spent an hour hauling down boxes of decorations from the attic so he could put them up. I made chili while he worked in the living room. He was sitting in his recliner listening to Bing Crosby croon and watching the twinkle lights on the tree when I decided I had to get out of the house for a while. And I’m glad I did, so I could run into you here.”

“Me too. How long until you have to return to your watch?”

“Eh,” Foster lifted his wrist to eye his watch. “I should probably head back in a few minutes.”

As if on cue, the Christmas tree lit up. They both turned to look, dazzled by all the lights. The workers surrounding the tree cheered. Then, just as quickly as it lit up, the tree went dark again. “Let’s pack it up, boys,” one of them shouted.

“Was that it?” Foster asked.

“Well, yes. That was just a test before the big tree lighting ceremony,” Alice explained. “They’re done for tonight. And so am I.” This was her cue to pack up and head home, but she wasn’t ready to let go of Foster’s hand quite yet.

Foster stood and kept a hold of Alice’s hand to help her up. He didn’t seem to want to let go either. “Can I walk you to your car?”

“I actually walked today. I don’t live far either, but if you live where I think you do, I have to pass by your way. How about I walk you home instead?”

“I’d like that.” He smiled. Foster continued to hold her hand as they walked beside the edge of the courthouse and along the west side toward the library.

“If the last few days are any indication, when I get to the house, my dad will be out cold in his recliner beside an empty bowl of chili and a half-eaten sleeve of crackers. I’ll put away the dishes, and turn off all the lights, but he won’t budge. He sleeps in his chair more than his bed.”

“Maybe it’s more comfortable there,” Alice offered. “My grandfather slept in his recliner a lot when he got older.”

Foster shrugged. “Yeah, except he’s been doing it for years, now. I think it keeps him from having to sleep in his bed, alone.”

“I can understand that,” Alice said. “Of course, sleeping alone is my normal. I’m not sure that makes it any easier. It just gets old.”

They stopped at the intersection of Third Avenue and Main Street, looking across the two-lane road at the little house on the corner. Alice knew it was Leo’s place because of his truck and Foster’s Mustang parked in the driveway. Through the open picture window, she could see a sparkling Christmas tree and Leo asleep in his chair beside it, as predicted.

Alice moved to step across the road, but the weight of Foster’s hand held her back. “What is it?” she asked.

“I’m not ready to say goodbye to you quite yet. I know we barely know each other, but I’d like to change that. How about we make your night abnormal?”

Foster waited for the ever-practical Alice to shake her head, tell him it was a school night, and send him home to his sleeping ward. Instead she smiled—a genuine smile—and tugged hard at his hand until he stumbled off the curb after her. They took a left away from his dad’s house, and up another block past the funeral home until they arrived at a tiny white house with blue shutters and a Christmas wreath on the front door.

“You’ll have to ignore the Christmas decorations,” Alice said as she unlocked the front door.

“I think I may have other things to look at,” Foster said with a grin and followed her inside.

Her place seemed very homey. Very Alice, if he thought about it. There was a woven welcome mat and a pair of white rocking chairs on the porch. Her living room had a comfortable-looking couch with too many pillows, a feminine floral wallpaper, and a bunch of thriving house plants. A nicely decorated Christmas tree stood near the small wood fireplace where a single stocking hung from a hook.

There wasn’t anything particularly different or special about the place. The layout was actually quite similar to his father’s home. But after living alone or with his dad for most of his life, the definitive lack of a woman’s touch in their lives seemed more obvious than ever.

Foster told himself he wasn’t lonely. He dated from time to time, but being single made it easier to write. He could see someone like Alice bringing havoc to his deadlines. But perhaps that was exactly the kind of change he needed. His editor told him his last manuscript felt a little flat. His time in Rosewood could inspire some excitement both on and off the page.

“Make yourself comfortable.”

“Sure thing,” Foster replied in a chipper tone, slipping out of his jacket and laying it neatly across a wingback chair near the window. He fidgeted with smoothing his flannel shirt, rolling up his sleeves, and then changing his mind and undoing it. His attempts at exuding outer confidence to smother his internal anxiety weren’t working.

He didn’t know why he was suddenly so nervous. This had been his idea, after all. Foster had done nothing but pursue Alice since they moment they met outside the jail. It should be so easy to transition from the flirtation to the seduction. He was great at putting on the charm. He did it at reader events and book signings all the time. But those people took their autographed copy and left. And now that he was standing in Alice’s living room watching her cast aside her bags and keys on the little kitchen table, it was suddenly very real.

“I know this is kind of fast,” he said. Foster wanted Alice. Badly. There was no question of that. But he also didn’t want her to think he did this kind of thing often. Or ever. He usually moved about as fast as a tortoise when it came to women. But the ticking clock on his time with Alice urged him to make the most of every moment he could have with her. He hoped that with her distraction, the next few weeks in Rosewood wouldn’t be as painful as he’d anticipated.

“Mmm hmm...” Alice responded, disappearing into what he assumed was the kitchen.

“I just want to make sure I’m not pushing you,” he spoke louder so she could hear wherever she was.

“I appreciate that.”

“So if at any time you want...”

Alice came back around the corner into the living room. Her coat, hat and gloves were gone. She was barefoot, wearing only a nice fitting pair of black slacks and a deep v-cut black sweater that clung to every curve God gave her.

It made Foster wish he’d met her in the summer when that incredible body wasn’t constantly wrapped up in layers for warmth. She approached him with a glass of red wine in each hand and a smile on her face.

“...to...” he continued.

“To what?” Alice asked, handing him a glass. She looked up at him with her big, brown eyes and thick lashes. With her free hand, she tucked a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear and awaited his answer.

It took him a moment to remember what he was saying. Oh yes. “...to stop.”

Alice shook her head and took a step closer to him. If he looked down, he’d be able to see straight down her sweater. As it was, he could see the edge of black lace peeking out and beckoning him to explore further. This close, he detected a faint, vanilla scent on her skin that was warm and infinitely appealing.

“No, I don’t think I have any intention of asking you to stop,” she said.

Foster watched her bring the glass of wine to her lips and he swallowed hard. He lifted his own glass, quickly draining what tasted like a nice merlot without the appreciation it deserved. He would buy her a replacement bottle later. But right now he needed a little booze in his veins to boost his confidence.

“Can I pour you more?” she asked with a curious light in her dark eyes.

“No, thank you,” he insisted. “I just needed a little something to warm me up after being outside for so long.”

Alice nodded and leaned over to sit her glass down on the nearby coffee table. “I think I could help with that.” She came closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her fingers glided through his hair and pulled his head down toward her.

The moment their lips touched, every single ounce of Foster’s anxiety was replaced with a sudden rush of desire. He didn’t know if it was the wine working its magic, or the zip of electricity that traveled down his spine when she caressed his neck, but the result was the same. There was nothing else he wanted, nothing more he needed, nothing in the world that mattered more than drinking in every drop of Alice.

His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her body tight against him the way he’d wanted to in the coffee shop, but couldn’t. Her ample curves pressed into him, eliciting a soft moan from Alice against his mouth. The sound shot straight to his groin, making him bolder and letting his tongue glide along her lips to taste more of her.

It was then that he felt Alice stiffen in his arms. She pulled away from his kiss, her pale cheeks flushed. He expected her to move from his embrace, but instead she looked curiously around the room for a moment as though she were listening for something.

Foster didn’t hear anything but the pounding of his heart in his ribcage. “What is it?”

“I thought...” Alice turned to look at the Christmas tree over her shoulder. “I thought I heard bells.”

“Bells? Is it your phone?” he asked. He shouldn’t be surprised to have this moment trod on by her constant work leash.

She shook her head and turned back to him with a smile. “No, it wasn’t that. You will be glad to know that I turned both my phones off. My job isn’t going to ruin tonight.”

“Wow.” Foster couldn’t mask his surprise at her confession. “I’m flattered.”

“It doesn’t happen often,” Alice admitted, turning her attention back to him. “Now, where were we? Oh yes. I was just about to ask you to accompany me to the bedroom.”

Foster let a ragged breath escape from his lungs. “Maybe I can make a few bells ring in there, too.”

Alice took him by the hand and led him down the dark hallway. “I hope so. It’s been a while since I had my bell rung,” she said with a smile as she opened the door to her bedroom.