Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Everett sorted through the various bags of candies and tubes of icing he’d tasked Gidget with gathering. The other eleven teams were doing the same at their workstations. Between the contestants and the onlookers, The Queen of Hearts Bakery was jam-packed.

“Remember, you only have ninety minutes to complete your house.” At each spot, Tatum placed a tray containing the four sides and two pieces of roof made of gingerbread. There were also two baggies of frosting to be used as the “glue” for their structure. “Everything on your house must be edible. The only tools you can use are decorator tips and a paring knife to cut your candies, if needed.”

Gidget absently picked up a gumdrop and popped it into her mouth.

“Hey!” Everett scolded her. “We may need that.”

They wouldn’t. His ever-efficient babysitter had over bought. Everett had enough materials to decorate a neighborhood of gingerbread houses. But that wasn’t the point.

“Sorry,” she said, sounding like she meant it. “I didn’t get lunch.”

He looked at the woman beside him, really looked at her. The ever-present dark circles under her eyes seemed less pronounced today. There was also a glow to her skin that could be attributed to the temperature of a bakery filled with bodies although he suspected something else. He followed her gaze across the room to the workstation where Kitty and the deputy set up their ingredients. The deputy sent a lazy grin Gidget’s way.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Everett said. “Will you be able to concentrate with your boyfriend sitting so far away?”

That got her attention. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why do you keep insisting he’s my boyfriend?”

Everett stared at her in exasperation. “Are you going to sit there and tell me he isn’t?”

“We’re . . . we’re just friends.”

He grunted. “Men do not look at women who are ‘just friends’ the way that man always looks at you.”

Her face went a shade pinker. She pulled the pretzel rods from the plastic container and measured them against the sides of the gingerbread house. “We’ll need a cup of water to soften the edges of these. That way, they won’t crack when we cut them.” She wandered off to the beverage station.

“The judges today will be Mrs. Dana Martin, our high school’s art teacher,” Tatum was saying. “Joining her are award-winning architect Gavin McAlister and cookbook author and chef Lori McAlister”

“Great, we have a leg up with the judges already,” he said when Gidget returned.

She snorted. “Don’t count on it. There is no free ride in the McAlister family. You have to earn your accolades and victories.”

The terse way she spoke the words had him scrutinizing her yet again. Before he could question her, however, Tatum clanged a metal spoon against a cookie sheet.

“Your time starts . . . NOW!” she shouted.

It turned out Gidget was a decent partner. Her attention to detail was extraordinary. And, as with everything else she did, she was competent.

“The log cabin has been done a time or two before. Never with a chimney made from Rice Krispie treats, though,” she said as she molded the rice cereal bars into the shape of a chimney, wide at the bottom and narrow at the top. “And the moose head made of chocolate is a nice touch over the door. The pretzel antlers are perfect. I’m impressed you thought of it.”

“Wow, a compliment. You are losing your edge, Gidget.”

While he waited for her to finish the chimney, Everett took a moment to glance at the other workstations. No surprise, his eyes gravitated toward Kitty. The tip of her tongue was caught between her lips while she focused intently on using her frosting bag to design something ornate on one side of her house. From what he could see, she and the deputy were assembling a Swiss chalet, complete with sticks of taffy for skis. She must have felt the weight of his stare because she chose that moment to look over at him. The guileless smile she aimed his way was nearly his undoing.

There was a lot to like about the down-to-earth artist. She was forthright and unassuming. Her beauty was uncommon, like a piece of sea glass the ocean had thrown about for years until it emerged scarred but with its own unique loveliness. Smooth yet hard enough to endure the trials life had thrown at her. Kitty was enchanting in her simplicity. And Everett felt himself falling under her spell every time he encountered her.

He tore his eyes away and refocused his attention on Gidget. She’d finished assembling the chimney and was now decorating ice cream cones with green frosting.

“What the hell are those supposed to be?” he demanded.

“Trees. This is a hunting lodge, is it not?” She shook her head. “We are being judged on the landscaping too, West. Why is it that men never think about that?”

He hadn’t thought of it.

“Thirty minutes, people!” Tatum called out. “You have half an hour left.”

Everett picked up some of the leftover pretzels. “I’ll make a woodpile beside the back door.”

She nodded. They worked in companionable silence until Tatum yelled, “Hands down!”

The onlookers applauded. They surged forward to get an up-close look at the gingerbread houses. Everett leaned back in his chair and stretched his shoulders. Gidget was already up and taking photos of all the entries.

“Can you tag the bakery in those?” Tatum asked her.

“Yep. I’ll share the photos with you so you can use them on your socials, too.”

“She’s a dynamo, that one,” Bernice, the town crier, remarked as she inspected their log cabin. “ Vantage is wasting her talents. Did you know she’s published in multiple magazines?”

Everett didn’t know that. He’d assumed she was like the other Gen Zs working at Vantage , one who used her family name and connections to get her job rather than having any real talent. Over the past decade, he’d encountered so many of their type in his business dealings. Perhaps he was wrong about Gidget.

“Her father kept all her articles on file in his office at the torpedo factory. Miles uses the place as his congressional office now, but the articles are still in a file cabinet there. You should stop by and read them sometime.”

Her challenge issued, Bernice moved on. Everett shook off the feeling that Keeley was trying to tell him something. He didn’t have time to figure it out, though, because suddenly there was a commotion at the door.

“Midas, no!” a woman yelled right before all hell broke loose in the bakery.

“Foiled by a golden retriever,” Everett complained later that evening.

He and Kitty were camped near the city pier with blankets covering their legs and Irish coffee in their thermal mugs. The night sky was clearer than it had been for the tree lighting the other day. The temperature was more forgiving, too. Everett was amazed by the number of teenage boys wearing shorts in December.

Families gathered along the pier, staking out the best viewing spots for the flotilla. Others were bobbing up and down in boats just yards from the shoreline. The brightly colored tree at the end of the pier served as their beacon.

Kitty wiped the tears from her eyes as she chuckled. The chaos in the bakery would kill it on social media had someone thought to video it. Even Gidget was too busy trying to catch the dog to film for her vlog.

“You have to admit Midas has good taste, though,” she said. “He went right for the Slice and Sip’s gingerbread house. A breadstick cabin with pepperoni shingles. And the boughs of basil decorating the door and windows?” She acted out a chef’s kiss. “It was on brand and, I’m sure, delicious.”

He grunted. The dog had escaped the leash being held by Gavin’s wife and immediately vaulted onto one of the tables. In the process of devouring the pizza parlor’s gingerbread house, his exuberant tail swiped Everett’s cabin to the floor, demolishing the moose head and the chimney Gidget had painstakingly put together before the judges even got to see it. Worse still, Kitty’s beautiful chalet was flattened when a spectator knocked into her table, trying to corral the dog.

He reached over and took her hand. “Your chalet was magnificent. It would have won if that damn dog hadn’t mutilated it.” He brought her fingers to his lips. “He didn’t bother touching the ridiculous doghouse decorated with biscuits.”

“I’m glad that one survived. It wasn’t ridiculous, either. You have to agree the doghouse was on brand. Addison owns the Bed and Biscuit. She’s very creative.”

“Hmm. I smell a rat,” he said. “She and the dog were probably in on it.”

They both laughed out loud until she was wiping her eyes again. Everett didn’t remember ever laughing this hard or this often in forever. In fact, he was secretly glad for the dog’s antics. It filled an empty spot where a memory he should have had with Keeley was supposed to have been.

A boat horn sounded in the distance.

“Here they come!” someone shouted from the pier.

Kitty slid her chair closer. “Keep your eyes on the horizon. This is one of Chances Inlet’s unique holiday traditions. And my favorite. It’s guaranteed to brighten your mood.”

His mood was already brighter having her so close. Christmas music began to fill the air as the lead boat approached. Behind it was a line of sailboats, all of them with string lights decorating their tall masts. The brightly colored lights created a stunning image against the dark purple sky.

The spectators “oohed” and “aahed” watching the early boats float by. They grew more subdued over the next half hour as they enjoyed the spectacle playing out on the ocean. Kitty dropped her head to his shoulder with a sigh. Everett was surprised by the sudden peace he felt. He’d lost hope that his memories would ever allow him such tranquility again.

It’s this place, he told himself. The noise of his past wasn’t so loud here. The woman beside him had a lot to do with that. He brought her hand to his lips again.

Minutes later, the blaring of sirens and sounds of spraying water quickly vanquished Everett’s sense of peacefulness. The frenetic sounds had his limbs growing stiff while his heart raced.

Kitty lifted her head. “Are you okay?”

He dropped her hand after realizing he’d begun to squeeze it more tightly than necessary. The Coast Guard’s fire ship moved into view. Its red and white lights flashed furiously against the night sky, while its cannons sprayed seawater high into the air. The murmur of anticipation rose among the crowd.

“Everett?”

Kitty’s voice sounded far away. His pulse began to race as soon as he spied the barge floating behind the Coast Guard ship. He knew what was coming next. And he knew there was no way he could keep from embarrassing himself.

A cheer went up along the pier as the first burst of light crackled through the air. A loud whistle followed the second explosion as sparks rained from the sky. The smell of sulfur wafted over the beach.

Everett’s breath left his body in a rush. His palms were already clammy. The fireworks continued to explode into the night sky. He worked to regain a normal breathing pattern, but it was no use. The booming and whizzing continued for several minutes until rapid fire explosions erupted at the end of the pier. He instantly felt the world fade away.

“West!” a voice shouted in his ear.

He ignored it, intent on keeping Keeley safe from the firefight. “Stop struggling, Keeley. I need to keep you covered up.” The thought of a stray bullet striking her had his gut clenching.

A hand palmed his cheek. “Everett. It’s me, Kitty. It’s alright. I’m safe. We’re safe.”

Fingers tugged on his flak vest. He struggled against them, the need to keep Keeley safe giving him the strength to hold his ground.

“West! This is Master Sergeant Hollister. On your feet. Now. That’s an order.”

Fuck.

Several long seconds later, sanity began to kick in. Everett pushed himself up onto his palms. The woman beneath him was not Keeley. It was Kitty. Beautiful, sensible, kind Kitty. Her hand was still on his cheek.

“Shh,” she soothed him. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

No, he wasn’t. He fucking wasn’t. Everett looked away so he wouldn’t have to see the pity that would surely be arriving in her eyes soon. A hand wrapped around his arm. He shook it off before jumping to his feet. The gym owner reached down to help Kitty up. Of course, the sheriff would have to be standing beside him. The look he leveled at Everett was filled with steely compassion.

And that was the last thing he wanted.

Shaking his head at the sheriff, he stalked through the ring of bystanders surrounding them.

“Everett West, don’t you dare walk away from me!” Kitty called after him, adding to his humiliation.

He hesitated for a moment, shocked that she would want anything to do with him ever again. Hell, he’d practically assaulted her in front of an audience. She, and everyone present, had seen the side of him he worked so hard to keep concealed. The part he couldn’t eviscerate no matter how hard he tried.

Two men deliberately blocked his way, making it easier for Kitty to catch him. She immediately slid her arm through his. He held himself rigid while Kitty nodded a thank you to the two guards. They immediately moved, letting them pass. The sheriff fell into step on Everett’s other side.

“You should get as far away from me as you can,” Everett grumbled to Kitty.

The look on her face was incredulous. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”

Somehow, they’d already made it as far as the sheriff’s Bronco. Hollister opened the back door and gestured for Everett to get in.

“You’re arresting me?” Everett demanded to know. Not that he was surprised. Kitty had every right to press charges.

The sheriff stared at him long and hard. “From the looks of it, you are punishing yourself enough.”

Kitty maintained her death grip on Everett’s arm as she climbed into the backseat, dragging him inside with her. “You need to be someplace quiet,” she told him. “He’s taking us back to the inn.”

He forced himself to meet her gaze. There was no pity there. Only steady determination.

“You don’t have to come.” He hated his cruel tone. Except he couldn’t bear to hurt this woman any more than he already had. To burden her with the ghosts that haunted him.

“No. I don’t have to.” She slid her hand down his arm, then interlocked their fingers. “I want to.”

The gym owner took the passenger seat while the sheriff got behind the wheel. The sea of pedestrians strolling Chances Inlet’s waterfront parted to allow the SUV through. Five minutes later, they arrived back at the inn. Patricia met them at the front door, a baby on her hip.

“Everything okay?” she asked her husband.

The sheriff leaned down to kiss the baby on the forehead before brushing a kiss on his wife’s lips. “Nothing that a good cup of your tea won’t cure.”

Some sort of silent communication transpired between the two before Patricia nodded.

“I was just about to put the kettle on. Would you join me in the kitchen, Kitty? Hazel and I are making popcorn balls.” She grinned widely at the baby. “She’s really not much help, though. I could use an extra set of hands.”

Kitty seemed reluctant to release his hand. Everett wasn’t sure he wanted to be alone with the two men in the foyer. It was cowardly to use her as a human shield, though. And he was confident he could brazen it out. After all, he’d been doing it for years.

With a nod, he unwound his fingers from hers. Kitty surprised the crap out of him when she leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. “I’m not leaving until we talk,” she whispered before following Patricia in the direction of the kitchen.

The sheriff cleared his throat. “The study should be unoccupied this time of night.”

“So not an arrest, but an intervention,” Everett quipped as he sauntered down the hall.

The gym owner made a growling noise. Sheriff Hollister ignored him as he closed them inside the small room. The sheriff dug into the bar cabinet and pulled out a single glass.

“Funny,” he said as he filled it with a finger of whiskey. “This bottle was full when you arrived, West.”

Everett let the comment lie.

“To hear Elle tell it, you always have a glass in your hand,” the sheriff continued. “Yet the bottle is still nearly full.”

The man was observant—Everett had to give him that. If he was in the habit of allowing people in his life, he’d choose a man like Lamar Hollister for a friend. Only his brokenness forced him to keep people at a distance. He thought he had a shot at something normal with Kitty. Except he’d blown that this evening. She was simply being kind by sticking around.

“People see what they want to see,” he told the sheriff. “When they see a drunk, they usually leave ’em alone.”

Hollister nodded appreciatively as he handed Everett the whiskey. “That’s a tactic I haven’t heard of before.”

Everett shrugged as he sipped his drink.

“I mentioned our veteran’s support group to you once before.” The sheriff jutted his chin in the direction of the gym owner. “Xander hosts it at the Ship’s Iron Gym. Our regulars include a former Navy SEAL, a few medics, artillery, Rangers and even some Coast Guard. We’ve all been where you were tonight. Some of us still fight those demons. I’m telling you this so you know you’re not alone. And you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Says you!

“It helps to have a place where you can go and shoot the shit, knowing everyone there will understand. No one will judge,” he continued. “You’re always welcome to join us.”

Everett swallowed roughly. Hell would freeze over before he bared his soul to a room full of strangers.

“Seeing as I’m not a veteran, I don’t see how your little group applies to me,” he said.

“Wow. You are one tough nut to crack,” Xander said, his tone curt.

“Who says I want to be cracked?” Everett clapped back.

Lamar chuckled. “I remember when I was like that. Me against the world. I also remember how freaking lonely it was living with only my demons as friends.”

A knock sounded at the door. Xander opened it to reveal Kitty standing there.

The sheriff smiled slyly. “If you’re lucky, you’ll find something—or someone—special to make you want to do the work to drive them away,” he said quietly before moving toward the door. Pausing beside Everett’s chair, he placed a hand on Everett’s shoulder. “I hope you’re not egotistical enough to ignore the luck that comes your way.”

Everett didn’t bother to respond. The door closed again, and he wasn’t surprised when Kitty sat in the chair beside him. She was silent for several heartbeats. Sighing, she took his glass from his hands and downed its contents in one gulp.

“I’m sorry.” He kept his eyes focused on the wooden Santa he’d admired his first night at the inn.

“Me, too,” she replied.

He whipped his head around to face her, thinking she was mocking him. Only to find her expression was one of genuine sorrow.

“What are you sorry for?” he demanded.

“I’m sorry you went through something that still haunts you so deeply.”

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. She was too good for him. He didn’t deserve someone so compassionate. Especially when he would continue to hurt her with his ugly moods and overreactions like today. She’d end up hating him. He didn’t think he could live with himself when it came to that.

“Tonight . . . tonight wasn’t the first time something like that has happened,” he whispered.

“Mm. Hayden had many nights like tonight when he first came home, according to my sister.”

He hated how angry her empathy made him feel. “It’s not the same. He lost a leg, sure. But I lost . . .”

The air in the room seemed to disappear. Everett tugged at the collar of his sweatshirt. Kitty reached over to the desk and poured more whiskey into his glass. She handed it to him. He took a generous swig.

“Tell me about her,” she urged.

He shook his head.

Kitty took his free hand between both of hers. “You’re not being fair to either of us. I’ve told you about my husband. His life. His death. Everything. If you truly loved her, she must have been wonderful. By keeping her locked inside you, you’re not really honoring her memory. Or letting her go.”

He didn’t want to let her go, dammit. At least he hadn’t until he met this woman. Writing the last few chapters of his memoir was torturous. It meant reliving their short life together. It meant facing up to the fact that the dreams they had made for their future would never come true.

It meant admitting that Keeley chose someone else over me.

His throat burned when he threw back the rest of the drink. It didn’t sting as much as the decision Keeley made that took her away from him. He cleared his throat.

“Keeley was a damn good reporter,” he began. “Her instincts were always spot-on. And she could get anyone to talk. To tell her how things really were. I was in awe watching her work.” He squeezed Kitty’s hand. “She was beautiful. Her mother was a model for British Vogue . Her father was a member of Parliament. Keeley got both of their best attributes.

“It was nearing Christmas, and we’d been back in the States for several months. She was getting twitchy for an assignment with some meat in it. I did everything I could to try to combat that restlessness. I rented a lovely house in a small town in Vermont for the month. We were going to do all the Christmassy things we always missed out on because we’d spent decades living as globe-trotting reporters.”

His chest grew tight thinking about what came next. As if she sensed what was coming, Kitty reached for the glass in his hand and took a fortifying sip before handing it back.

“She got word that an interpreter who had worked for her was denied a visa to come to the States. And that really made her anxious. She was worried he or his family might be harmed if it was found out that he had aided the Western media. Keeley came up with a plan to get him out of Afghanistan. Of course, it couldn’t wait until after the holidays. The man’s life was in danger.”

He switched out the glass for the Santa from the desk.

“It was only supposed to take three days. They would get in and get out and be back home before Christmas Eve. That’s what she promised me. Then we’d have the Christmas I planned for us. The one I thought we were both dreaming of.”

Kitty wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Everett relaxed at her touch.

“It was a setup. She and the group of veterans turned mercenaries were ambushed. Except every one of those guys managed to get out alive. Only Keeley and her interpreter didn’t make it. They were supposed to protect her, to bring her back to me. They didn’t.”

“That explains a lot,” she told him. “Thank you for telling me.”

His laugh lacked any humor. “Now you know why I’m such a pathetic mess.”

Kitty took the Santa from his trembling hands and returned it to the desk.

“You are neither of those things, Everett West. The story you just told me explains why you hold a bit of a grudge against veterans, though. It also hints at the reason why you are so hell-bent on experiencing every Christmas contest and tradition this town offers. As for what happened tonight . . .” She waved a hand through the air dismissively. “You’re a man who has suffered a great loss, and witnessed the world’s cruelness firsthand. But you survived it, Everett. And I, for one, am so glad you did.”

He risked a peek over at her. Those brown eyes he’d fallen for the moment they met were smiling at him.

“I don’t want you to pity me,” he whispered.

She shook her head. “What I feel for you is nothing close to pity.”

Her admission should have scared the hell out of him. It didn’t, though. His heart was racing again. This time with hope. He cupped the back of her neck with his hand and pulled her closer for a kiss.

Kitty tasted like whiskey.

And salvation.